(SOMEDAY YOU WILL BE LOVED.)

Today, I had another anxiety attack. Not a mild one. Hyperventilation. The whole shebang.

And then I made myself calm. No medication, no mediation, just rationale.

It's times like these that I know I can make it. I'll grow up and be self-sufficient. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not by my eighteenth birthday. But I have it in me. I'm not as hapless as I am used to thinking.

Daydreamishly yours.

P.S. Yes, fine, I'm reading a YA fantasy novel. It's a guiltily self-indulgent light reading after all the Victorian lit I've been tearing through. Get off my back.

EDIT:
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. I just finished my Internal Assessment for 20th Century Topics, and as I was saving it, what do you think? OpenOffice crashed. Document was not recovered. 1,726 words. Gone. This is a cliché that I never thought would actually happen to me.

I fucking hate my goddamn life.