Enough is enough. I fear that I am falling into a depression. First the financial markets, then a string of unreliable men, and I am just tired—physically and mentally spent.
I can understand why the betta male wouldn't want a girl like me. It's too stressful when you are dealing with a basketcase, which is clearly what I've become. I want to do everything and in the end I don't do anything.
Oh, it's not lack of effort at all. I am tempted to run away from it all, kind of in the same fashion I almost did at the pool yesterday. I need a break from a world that is very practical and realistic. I want escape.