2014-01-28 / 6:50 p.m.

I'm either unwell or I'm just down down down again, trying to finish the final chapter of my thesis. How can two thousand measly words be so much of a struggle? I want to bury my head under my pillow. Instead I'm rising early and exercising so hard that I struggle not to vomit, I shower and I have a lull in the afternoon where I eat and wish I could nap but feel as though I don't have the time, as though I never have the goddamn time. But it's all I have. I just got really angry somewhere along the way. Too many times now I've only just avoided shuffling into A&E, I don't even know what to say. I'm dying, look at me, I'm dying. But I don't, I never do, I'm still grasping at a measly attempt at self-preservation. I'm pretending to write this ridiculous paper when really I'm spending more time trying not to think about it than anything else. Just before Christmas, I tried a stint in the library but there were old folks singing carols on the bottom floor and it was just so beautifully heartbreaking. Somehow I just don't belong anywhere. I left in the end because somehow I couldn't make myself fit in and bumped into an old friend of mine that I'm not allowed to be friends with. But that's another story. I miss her. On New Year's Eve, I found her again and we were all there pretending like nothing had really changed but now when I see people I have to tell them that I unfriended them on Facebook because I cry when I see them having fun without me. Why are other people so disrespectful to human emotion? I'm dying, honestly.