Honesty

This is hard. This is real fucking hard. Living on my own. I'm done bull shitting and saying I'm doing okay. I'm not. I'm lonely. I want friends. I want people to talk to. I want to be able to go find someone my age that I can hang out with without having to go to a fucking bar or online. Why is this so fucking hard? I'm not coping well at all. I think I need help. I need to sit down and really asset my life. I have good intentions, and I'm doing some good things, but things overall aren't going well. This is make it or break it time. This is me on thin ice. I'm holding on by a finger. I'm going to pray tonight that I can find something or someone that can help me get up. Do you know the last time I was able to sit down with someone and actaully have them ask me, "how are you doing?" and me feeling like I could answer? Cause I don't. I need some support right now. I need to get through these next 85 days. That is all. One at a time. I need to try to get through this. I'm not a quitter. No fucking way am I walking away from stuff and quitting in this life. I'm done with that shit. I'm always down with letting myself fall. It's time to pick things up. This is the type of anger with tears in your eyes. This isn't meant to be poetic, it's meant to be real. This is me asking for help in one of the only ways I know how to. It's kind of pathetic, I know.