Enough.

For once in my life, I would love to be "good enough." This past month has only reminded me that, no matter where I go or what I do, that will never be the case.

I'm not smart enough. I'm not thin enough. I'm not tall enough. I'm not nice enough. I'm not mean enough. I'm not pretty enough.

I just wish that I could be happy again. I haven't been that way since I was at GSA. I almost took a fucking knife to my forearm last night because I found the mere idea appealing. Not even four hours of dance this week has helped me get some of my frustration out (usually, that's my only ticket to sanity). I can't focus on anything because no matter where I go, something or someone is constantly reminding me of everything I'm trying to forget. Everyone is mad at me for whatever reason and I just feel way too poetic about my life (moreso than usual).

Maybe tomorrow will be better. It's going to hurt me if I keep harping on this during UE Scholar Day on Friday.