backyard crowing



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ass-burgers

I haven't written, probably due to anxiety.

I don't want to write about anxiety right now, I just want to escape it.

Sometimes the feeling makes me right more, sometimes less.

I want this journal to be therapeutic, because few things are, anymore.

My only friend is my fiance, and he doesn't really understand me. He loves me, and I him, but I'll always need a therapist, I'm afraid. But there's nothing really wrong with that.

Sometimes I get so frustrated that I want to kill everyone, or myself. This summer has seen white hot hatred as I've struggled weekly (for months) to pay rent.

In ten days, I'm homeless.

I just don't know what to do anymore. The fiance makes it sound so easy. He can't empathize. His father has a master's degree in psychology, but the fiance just doesn't get it - doesn't have emotions, can't understand those of others. I wonder if someday he will burst...or if he really has asperger's. I want to ask him if he's been diagnosed...but that sounds mean.

...with that, I've started researching asperger's. Pronounced "ass-per-jures," not "ass-burgers," so says the internet. :p

7:35 pm - Saturday, Jul. 18, 2015
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