Its my fault and I have no place to bitch, cry or complain but the pain is the same regardless of who’s fault it is, maybe its worse when it’s all my own because I have no one to be mad at. There is not one soul on this earth that cares about anything that has to do with me. Not my fears, my hopes, there’s no one to run ideas by, to laugh with, nothing. I see my therapist 2x a month, when she’s not out sick with her kids, its been… 6 weeks now? I’ve been to the pharmacy 3x in that time I think. It doesn’t count. I sort of feel like I’m floating in a huge bowl of nothing. The days all blend together. Get up. Get dressed. Clean the house. Avoid him. Go to bed. Repeat. My choices got me here. And the truth is I was not blessed with any traits that make anyone want to be around me so… Is it possible to live a hermits life without going insane?