Devious Journal Entry

Hi guys,

Just have decided to be clear with you. Maybe those few of you who followed what was up with me, have noticed my decreased activity. I don't want to make another long lamenting posts about my life or stories like I used to long ago. I realize that you have better things to do.

I should have made this post long ago, but something has always stopped me. At first, I was afraid of admitting it to myself, then admitting it to you. I did not want to appear weak, or naive, or a moron. That's why now I appear an unpredictable, emotionally unavailable bastard.

So, I failed. Failed at being healthy. Where to begin... I figured stuff about my past, my abusive background, and unconsciously, slowly I became preoccupied with it. I have learned from articles regarding the development of children, that with the background I have I'm basically sentenced to death.

I have also realzied that I have Complex PTSD. Most probably it had been underlying why I was having depression and anxiety. Until May, I did not even figure what it was. I had similar symptoms to depression and anxiety, but I knew it wasn't the same. All I felt that I was a failure, that it was my second relapse, and seemingly every time I get better, my diseases will come and knock me down even harder. On the top of that, these months I went without regular therapy, as my psychologist moved. I tried to look up other ones and bared my soul to 7. All of them either refused me, were inexperienced or were too expensive. We're skyping now, but it's not the same.

So, sorry about not being here, I just no longer give a damn. Which feels miraculously liberating after 8 years of anxiety, but it is also really empty. I have lost interest in everything. Even photography. I've tried to convince myself to get involved, but every little thing in me resists that. I might post in every once in a while, extremely old photos, but I just don't really care...

I don't even know why I made this. Feel free to be mad at me, hate me, or whatever you want, really. Feel free to ignore me. Anything, really. If you worry, don't. I'm not planning suicide, but I don't feel a reason to keep on either. But don't worry. God will handle me. And I don't feel anything basically.

Sorry for being an emotionally unavailable bastard I still love you and am grateful to each of you with all of my heart,
Amy