I keep hoping that I will change, physically and mentally, to the point where I will be allowed to love. Where I will be allowed to have someone love me. 

I don’t think it’s about being allowed though. Not anymore. I just don’t think anyone could ever love me. Love. Real, passionate love. I believe other people deserve it. Other people with this illness. 

There is something about what I am - what is wrong with me - that will never deserve it or have it or even come into contact with it. I am wrong in every sense of the word. 

Overweight. Overwrought. Overcompensating.

Just gotta be alone. Alone in this stupid ugly fucking life. I don’t think I’ll ever figure out what to do with it. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know who I am. I keep asking it over and over and over again - what do I do? 