My Journal to mYSELF

I am making things worse by trying to say how I feel. I thought I was on to something, that if I opened up for once in my life It would be what would solve things. I was wrong, as usual. I am making her feel worse, so maybe I have been right the whole time, its better to keep things to myself. I put together a DVD and poured my heart into it, I cried for hours listening to every note of the music, and looking at every picture. When she watched it it still didn’t help things I feel totally like I am not worth it, I’m not worth fighting for and its already over, the time is just to make it easier. Like when I’m gone, she can make the arrangements. I totally fucked myself over petty shit, and I am so depressed I can’t eat, or sleep, I feel cramps in my stomach and I’m dizzy, and all my thoughts are of her. I fucked up the best thing I ever had, And I’m scared of going on without her. I miss her already, its so cold around here, I feel terrible. I used to write like this, just to get it out to feel better, I am trying it again because I have to do something to feel better. Its so sad I’m not even happy to be going to see my kids, and I love and miss them so much. In a nutshell I am worthless to her, I’m worthless to my kids, I’m worthless to myself. I have been so selfish.