Right now, I hate myself. It seems as if everything I hate is that way because it's all inside of me.

Consistently I obsess about my brother's lying and manipulation, and then come to realize that it's me who is lying and manipulating. I manipulate people into caring about me, and then turn my back on them. I do stupid shit to test them, not completely intentional, but I'll push something further than it needs to go.

Right there...look...I'm trying to justify my actions again.

I hate the idea of suicide and all that comes with it, and yet I constantly am fantasizing about suicide.

How can I be so fucking hypocritical? What am I trying to do in writing this entry anyway? Probably looking for more of your pity.

I want everyone else in my life to do the work for me. I want them to care...I want to feel loved...but how much do I actually want to give back?

I feel like all I ever do anymore is lie to myself...try and convince myself that I am a certain way--the way I want to be.

Christmas Eve, while I was laying on my bed crying hysterically, I repeatedly told myself out loud that I was happy. I want to believe that I'm happy. I believe in mind over matter, that if I can convince myself that I am a certain way, I'll become that.

Sometimes I don't convince enough and I'm left with this. I don't know who the fuck I am. Nobody else does either, and that's quite apparent. Believe me, it doesn't help. Not that I expect anyone else to know when I even don't, but some part of me is waiting for that moment when someone comes and tells me who I am, what I want, and what I stand for.

I know that day will never come. But how long before I figure it out for myself? It's not even about fooling other people right now. I'm trying not to hurt anyone. But it's about fooling myself. How can someone pull the wool over the own eyes?

I don't understand why I'm doing this--why I feel such hatred for so much of myself.

Who am I?