I try not to be a petty, self-pittying individual, though I know I am. I know I have meaningful relationships in my life and there are a lot of people who love me, and I am a lot more fortunate than many people. Please don't think that I'm not eternally grateful for all the love and support I have from so many people in my life, both family and friends. This is just a thought that weighs me down more often than it reasonably should.

At this point in life, in your mid- to late-twenties, you are to believe that everyone around you has been in love at least once before, or been in at least one real relationship, if you are the type of individual that wants that in life (because not everyone seeks the same type of relationship I desire). Usually it's as a teenager or young adult, either in high school or college. It's an intense fling with passion and love that fizzles out rather quickly; or it's a long-term, mutual companionship that ends badly; or it's something where both individuals have a mutual need or desire for the other. You see everyone around you living this. Then, you see everyone else around you your age, all the people you went to high school with, the people you knew in college, getting married and having children. Your cousins and siblings and friends are having their happily ever afters.

I'm sitting at home, never truly having been in love. I've had a few relationships that each concluding quicker than the last, each break-up becoming progressively more explosive. The first two relationships I had were empty, draining, and toxic. A lot of things changed for me in a very short period of time and I still regret decisions I made during that time. I've been in love once, and it wasn't mutual. I believe he wanted to love me, but he was so broken and self-loathing that he couldn't fathom how to love someone else and to believe in being loved in return. That "relationship" starved me of energy, left me empty for months and months. (I think I'm only starting to rebuild since that, and it ended the beginning of March 2018.) I gave way too much for that relationship than I could provide when receiving nothing in return. Recently, I had thought I could actually have something real, mutual, meaningful. I wanted to hold back but let myself, maybe forced myself, to set caution to the wind and fall for someone. It seemed like it was going well, really well, until he left an invite to hang out on read for well over a month. It was just a couple weeks ago that I awkwardly found out he had a girlfriend when someone else casually asked about her during game night.

I'm also sitting here, wondering if the stars and moons aligned and I found the right relationship and I was at a point in my life where I was ready to start a family, if I could even become pregnant. I've had complications (and still have flare-ups) that have caused doctors to question if my body is functioning in the proper ways. (In all other proper ways, since I was already born with a defect in one other part of my body.) And sooner rather than later, I will be forced to undergo at least a partial hysterectomy, if not a complete one. This will render me officially sterile. Not only was I born without an orifice and its relating muscles, but now I can't even do the one thing my body was designed to do.

I want to hold a tiny human in my arms, knowing that I helped to create that thing. My heart aches at how desperately I want that in life. Sure, I want that soul mate, that true love, something real and meaningful. But what I want more than that is a child, a bundle of terror that I and some unlucky guy unleashed onto this world. I want to look at my kid accomplish great things and be able to say, I made that. I know full well that you can have that same pride and love for a child that doesn't share your DNA. Don't get me wrong, I am not dissing that in any way, shape, or form. Being pregnant and having a child is just something that I personally want in life, a dream that has been all but crushed right in my face. And it's not by anyone's doing other than it's how nature decided to happen.

What I do have a little more control over is relationships, if only because it's equal parts give and take. (You can't control how others feel, but you can control how you treat others.) Why can't I at least have a significant other if I can't have a baby? Why must the universe take away not only my first life goal, but also my second? I know these are the sort of questions I should be addressing at therapy, and I am aware that medication has actually helped me in the past and could continue to help me in feeling better. I don't give medicine a long enough try before beginning to not care again. I could put so much more effort into myself and my mental health and perhaps see a difference in various aspects of my social, work, and personal life.

The only things that drive me each day are my cats. I know how that sounds and I don't care. Those two animals are everything to me, and are the only ones who have been there through everything for me and who have never let me down. Pets are truly the best friends anyone can have, because it's so pure. Animals don't pretend to like you so they can take advantage of you or backstab you in the future. Animals are honest and genuine. (Yes, cats, too. Cats are honest about using you only for your ability to open a can.) I always joke that they are lucky I love them when they pull brat moves, but I always correct and remind myself that I'm lucky to have them in my lives. My parents and friend and family have done so, so much for me throughout my entire life, but it is those two cats who have driven me to not only keep pushing, but to go forward.

I had the most intense dream last night. It started with McKayla and I talking to these two boys, both of which I was interested in. Sometime later, either hours or a few days, I don't know, she and I were hanging out with one of the guys. It was daylight, and we were in a park. Then somehow it was dark and we were at maybe Walmart or something, in the parking lot. I like saw Zach somewhere or somehow or something. McKayla and the guy were like, he's not going to come over here. But he did, and he attacked me or something. The way he was portrayed in my dream was almost animalistic. It was weird. Then later that night, McKayla, the new guy, and I were in a bed. McKayla was in the middle, and I was clinging to both of them. The guy made some comment about how I was so happy to have both of them there, joking about me having a wife and a boyfriend or something. I laughed but pulled them both closer. I think I switched to being in the middle, because I remember snuggling up closer to him. I don't know how, but I chose this guy over the other one in the beginning of the dream, and I was happy with my decision. But the bed was on a porch and Zach showed up again. I remember, clear as day, pulling him to the side, and I could see his face. But he wouldn't look me in the eye. His hair covered his eyes. He didn't seem human, but I don't know if I knew that in the dream. But I told him that if he had communicated with me, we would still be together. I whispered that to him so the new guy wouldn't hear. I think he was there, attacking us, because he wanted me back but knew that wasn't a possibility, so he was just lashing out? I honestly don't know, but that's the feeling I got from the dream. But I think after I told Zach that, he left. I remember watching him walk away. I was scared at what had just happened.

Now, I miss him. It's killing me. I feel like breaking everything, and using the broken shards of what remains to cut myself open. I want the outside to feel as torn and shredded as the inside. Zach shattered my heart. That's how I know that what I felt for him was so strong. It makes me so mad that he was such a useless motherfucking asshole. I could never go back to him after everything that he did, and knowing that is the worst feeling. He was everything I wanted, everything I needed. He was perfect, minus the one little fact that he was, is, worthless. Maybe a year down the line, he and I will cross paths again, and maybe we can have a new start.

I came to the conclusion a short while ago that anytime I try to do something for myself, it comes back and bites me in the ass. So that's why I've stopped caring about full-time. I'm never going to actually get it. Kevin has no interest in being a mentor. Jason has no interest in mentoring me. My cats are old and my parents have no will to live, so by the time I'm thirty, I'll probably lose everything that means anything to me, so why bother trying to further myself? It's not going to mean anything. I already don't want to outlive my cats and there's no way in hell I can survive even a second without my parents, so there's no point.

And the worst part is, I've never felt so alone. McKayla is absent. Stephanie withdrew from me. John's a Danny Tanner Hallmark card, and I can't handle that. My mom overreacts and my dad's not comforting. I really don't have anyone to talk to who will listen and comfort me. Jason sneaks out to Elizabeth's car to comfort her when she cries. That's a part that I'm jealous of. I have no one and she does. She has a boyfriend, a manager, and a professor who care. I genuinely feel alone. Where is that other person who I'm supposed to be with? The person who is supposed to hold me when I cry and hate the people I hate and share late night secrets with. Where is he? I know he's not a she. I've contemplated that long enough and kissed enough women to know that it's not my thing. So how much longer do I have to go feeling alone and empty before I find that right person who lights my life and makes me feel complete? Have I already met this person? Is this person still in my life now, or is it someone I met when I was three? These are the kind of questions that make me so angry and anxious that make me want to throw break and tear things.

I really need a punching bag. Not only will it be good for my body, but I could really get some anger out. I feel like I only have one emotion: anger. Alex pointed it out. He says all I've been is angry for the past week. Stephane has pointed it out before, but long ago. I mean, I'll have moments where I laugh, but for the most part, I'm either stressed, angry, annoyed, or on occasions like today, empty, blank, or apathetic. I haven't felt content, peaceful, at ease, relaxed, or specifically happy, in a while. I mean, I feel complete and privileged when I get to hold either of my cats, but I can't take them with me to work. (Holy fuck, if I could, nothing in the world would matter. I'd be so happy and calm at work, it's not even funny. Oh, to be able to pet Princess and have her in my lap while I'm dealing with Straight Talk or asinine customers or useless managers...) I really need to see a therapist, talk to them and figure some shit out. But I just can't find the time. Working full-time hours (without full-time benefits, mind you) gives me only two days a week to do things, to be able to sleep in and enjoy not having to be out in public. How am I supposed to find balance while seeing a therapist? (Please refrain from pointing out that I often start work at eleven-thirty, noon, or one, giving me plenty of time to be productive in the mornings before work.)

How does an introvert with dysthymia (or possibly depression at this point) and anxiety schedule everything?

Oh, and to top this all of, I'm apparently a psy-vamp. A friend and coworker of mine who happens to be one as well has pointed this out to me, and tested and confirmed it. The other day, I was feeling tired and our other coworker was bouncing off the wall, so I drained his energy. I didn't tell him what I was doing, but the psy-vamp coworker asked if I had permission to feed. Confused, the hyper coworker said yes, so I put my hand on him. Immediately after, I had a small sugar high and his mood drooped. This kid is so oblivious anyway, that he wouldn't have understood what I was doing even if I had explained it to him. So, I'm beginning to believe that I'm a psy-vamp. I need to learn to hone these skills and use them to my advantage... And apparently, I need to find a battery.

But this whole me being a psy-vamp thing, does that explain why Zach, living with me, went to such a dark place? Cindy had said that the Zach who did what he did at the end wasn't the same Zach who worked there. She jokingly asked what I did to him. But what if there was an actual answer to that question? What if I actually drained him so much, I fucked with his mental stability? I worry about everything that I shouldn't be worrying about. I worry about things that I have no control over, things that are long since passed, things about which nothing can be done. I just worry way too fucking much. I'm worried about things Jason isn't. That's a quote of his, one that I use against Megan to annoy her. "You're worried about things I'm not." I had to throw that in there.

Much like Zach, Jason's on my mind constantly. It's just a thing.

On a side note, I purchased a new keyboard that I think I'm going to return. I don't really like it as much as I thought I would. I really prefer the old one I already had. Well, at least I can get it out of my system. I kept playing with it at work and I thought I wanted it. Now that I have it home and I'm using it, I realize it's not as nice as I thought. Now, onward to bigger and better things.

I used to say that I'll never kick Zach out. That changed. He lied to me, used my car to meet up with some chick he met on Tinder. Nia. He invited her to my apartment the week he would have been here alone, the week I was in Connecticut with McKayla. What did he expect to happen? Why did he think any of that was okay? He wasn't paying any of the bills, wasn't giving me a fucking dime. So I kicked him out, the day of a really nasty snow storm. March 2. I remember the date only because it was the night we celebrated my aunt's birthday, which is March 1. I didn't feel guilty at all. He was screaming at his mom on the phone the entire time. I was talking to my parents on the phone, too, pausing occasionally to scream at him about hurrying up and getting out. He accidentally left his Nintendo 64 and phone charger. I kept them, still have them. The charger I'll keep because whenever I finally upgrade my phone, I'll be able to use it. The Nintendo, I might try to sell. At one point I was thinking of driving to Buffalo as a day trip with Stephanie and drop it off on his door step. I wanted to maybe catch a glimpse of him, maybe get a chance to scream at him more. But I probably won't do that. I have enough shit in my life to deal with at the moment. Like Jason being a fucking useless prick.

I got drunk the night of Mother's Day and messaged him. I wrote this whole long thing about missing him but still hating him and shit. It was a whole thing. He didn't reply, but Stephanie asked him (against my wishes) if he got it and he said yes, but his opinion didn't matter back then so it didn't matter at this point in time. He irritates me. But I want to message him again, asking for his side of the story. I can contemplate and ponder for the rest of my life, but the truth of the matter is that I'll never know unless he tells me. Maybe next time I get drunk, I'll end up doing that and regretting it in the morning again... Because that's how I roll.

But I never knew it was possible to miss someone this much. The first month or two were brutal. I thought about him every day, every night. All the fucking time. I still think of him occasionally. The most random things remind me of him. This feeling, this has convinced me that I truly did love him. Maybe still do, I don't know. But I know I did at one point in time. But there's no way that I could ever be with him again. I could never trust him. At least, I say that now. If I ever was presented with the choice for real, if he were to ever stand before me and ask for a second chance, I don't know what I'd actually say. I hate him but I miss him.

Living with him for the three months that I did, though, left me with some really unhealthy habits. I hate him for that, too. Yet again, though, I couldn't make it past three months. We lasted about two and a half months as an unofficial thing. He then lived with me for another month and a half. And it's been five months since that, and I'm still hung up on him.

You know the only person who has come close to making me forget about him? Jason. But you know who has recently pushed me away and discarded me like yesterday's trash? Jason. He is the current reason I'm spiraling in self-pity. He took Elizabeth under his wing and completely threw me to the side as if I didn't even exist. It was a rough week, at war with both of them. Slowly, I came to a truce with him, but an unstable one. I finally worked through things with her, and she and I are, I believe, good. I mean, I go to her about Jason and shit now, instead of treating her like an enemy. She has done nothing except accept Jason's tutelage. But why wouldn't she? It's her future, her potential career. I wouldn't expect her to reject that. I just thought that Jason would have taken us both under his wing. He didn't, and that's what killed me. Even today, when I asked him for keys, he said I had to wait because he needed to go show Elizabeth something. They weren't in the middle of anything yet. It would've taken him two minutes to unlock the cabinet for me to get keys, then he could've gone and taught Elizabeth whatever it was she needed to learn. But instead, he forgot about me. I didn't wait for him to come back, though. After he walked away, I found Alycia and had her get me keys. Hours later, after Elizabeth yelled at him for me, he was like, "Oh shit, Liz, I forgot." Yeah, no fucking shit, you useless piece of fucking garbage. I'm so done with him. He tells me I'm one of his peeps and that he doesn't hate me and that he thinks I have what it takes to move up at work, but the way he acts, I don't believe it. He does nothing for me. He took care of a couple of my absences, but I know that was just to shut me up so I don't go bitching to Andres or Tim about him fixing Elizabeth's absences. But it's whatever. I want nothing to do with that asshole anymore. He can take his stupid fucking head and shove it up Elizabeth's ass and the world will keep revolving.