If the plane goes down, damn. I'll remember where the love was found.

Last month I wrote about being able to make myself happy. To be content with my life and not need anyone else to make me feel that way. Well I can't do it. I don't know if it's because I'm not trying hard enough, or because this kind of enlightenment would take more than one lifetime to achieve. But I cannot do it.

I hate the way I've been feeling over the past few weeks. I'm not sure if it's the disorder kicking my ass, or if I'm having some kind of crisis or a result of something I've done taking a toll on me. I want this to stop. The anxiety, lies, anger, frustration. Everything. I need it to stop.

I'm afraid to write candidly about how I currently feel because I don't know what will come out. I might even shock myself. I was supposed to talk to my managers about these feelings and how I felt they could effect me from doing my job, but public transportation in our city went on strike! WTF. Seriously?

I cannot stop feeling the way I do. I need a break from it. I think it may be time to start seeing someone again. Maybe all I need is somone I can talk candidly with and not have the worry of it effecting my personal life. I need a therapist.