Meh

I am all sorts of fucked up.

And screwed, in terms of assignments.

And still sick.

I'm supposed to set time to myself to write down everything I want to say, or record myself saying things that I want to let out.  It's hard to do the latter when I don't live alone, and...I should do the former, I know.  But something like that will take longer than any of these little entries take.

I realized today how angry I am about the whole London thing.  Angry and really upset about it.  I've been thinking about it a lot lately.  I don't know why; maybe because soon it will have been two years since I went over there, so it's like...my London anniversary or something.  That was, without a doubt, one of the biggest sacrifices I made, and for what?  Nothing.  I was the idiot who thought that if I didn't go everything would be fine, and that my sacrifice would maybe one day be reciprocated or at least appreciated.

Thinking about stuff like this does fuel my dislike and nascent hatred of him, but it also intensifies the anger I feel at myself.  I was told that I need to allow myself to make mistakes like that, that I should tell myself that it is okay to still feel like this and that I'm not to blame, and that, above all else, I need to forgive myself.

I don't know when I'll be able to do that.