You could say I spend most of my day wishing and dreaming of all the things I'd like to do one day. But every year rolls around and none of them have been accomplished. My body is slowly wasting away into a puddle of muck, while my conscience is busy scheming of all the things I will never get to do. It's sad and pathetic. I'm rarely happy because I'm constantantly bombarded with past hurtful memories. They are always there ready to bring me down below the level of sad all the way to depressed.

I will never have a nice body. No one will ever think I'm beautiful. That's a word I rarely use...I can't stand to look at myself in the mirror. I avoid it at all costs...I look once every morning to attempt at making myself look nice, but after that I refuse to see my own reflection. I'm hideous in every single way, both inside and outside. I can't even compare myself to the phantom of the opera, because he at least had one nice looking side. I'm a monster....

There are so many things I'd like to do one day, but I know they just won't happen.

I want to have a nice body. A handsome face. I want to go to a waterpark and not have a panic attack that everyone is snickering about me. I want to look and feel nice. I've never been to a waterpark....I rarely go to the beach and hardly every let anyone I know see me in a pool. I want to have a relationship with someone...I want to know what it's like to be loved and accepted. I don't know what it feels like to truly be wanted by anyone else....

Everytime I post a confession, I feel a little bit better, but realize nothing is changing.