I'm trying to find a reason to continue with this monotonity. I hate every aspect of my life and I dread going to work. I should be grateful that I have a job and relative good health, but I can't find the appreciation. I feel like an ungrateful jerk. I feel like every little thing makes it that much harder to move onwards.

I wonder if Grandma found life to be pointless and tedious. I am 43 years old and I can't find much good in the world, much to live for. I am at a constant battle to try and move forward, but to what end?

I have no children, no spouse, no purpose. All I have are my cats. How fucking depressing. How fucking pathetic.

I just want to sleep all day.

I haven't felt anything for days. Just dullness, plain old dullness. I only feel sad at times. I really wonder what the point of all of this is. I miss Gigi.

I have just come to the realization that I am apallingly fat and ugly and that anything I am or do on this planet will be forgotten.

Why try to change or do anything? I'm just going to die anyway. All I do is sit around and cry and feel depressed and do nothing of any record or importance. I am fucking useless.

I've been obsolete since the day I was born and now it's all become clear.

Nothing I have ever done or ever will do will make a difference. It's useless against the face of all that isn't done or can be done.

I'm just another useless, purposeless fat organism taking up space and having nothing to show for it.

I pray for death, but worry about who will care for my cats since no one will.

I don't have any other name for it...it just smothers me and all I want to do is hit something and cause some pain so I stop feeling it. It's this inexplicable self loathing rage that just overwhelms me in this huge wave and all I do is scream. I scream into something and fight the urge to gouge my face and cut off my fat stomach. I hate myself and end up on the floor crying. I hate these...I just fucking hate these!!!!!!

I fucking hate my stomach. It's the most disgusting thing I have ever seen. All I have done is battled with it all my life. Dieting, exercising, crunches, twists and situps. Not one damn thing does anything. I have fought at my skinniest to get rid of it's disgusting bump and nothing, short of starvation, and I don't even think that will work, will get rid of it.

I loathe every bit of my malformed, fat body. I fucking hate it and I feel hopeless about doing anything about it. What's the point when all I'll do is get into another of these fucking depressive episodes and undo all the hard work again? I mean, it's not like anyone ever looked at me twice to begin with. I have not had a relationship of any sort for over 20 years now. Happy fucking birthday.