(no subject)
It's Wednesday night, everyone is out at the QB. I threw a big fit to Sam about going. I hate when I act so immature and selfish in a situation. He is gone now and I regret crying in front of him. I hate the fact that I can't go out yet. I hardly even do anything fun outside of my house. Sam thinks that even if i had the oppertunity, I wouldn't want to go. I don't know. I spend so much time feeling sorry for myself. I feel so sad all the time that I hardly enjoy anything. He thinks everyday I find something to freak-out and complain about and hate life about. Maybe he is right...
I wish this Lexapro would fucking kick in.
I wish this Lexapro would fucking kick in.