I feel blank. I feel like a doormat. I feel so... empty. I feel like I'm detached. I feel like I'm almost outside my body. I don't feel in control. I feel like this isn't me. I don't want to be like this. I'm not usually like this. I have a headache. It must be the lack of sleep. I need to get a grip. I know it's okay to feel down once in a while. I feel like I'm slow. I feel like I'm not as engaging as before. Too much socializing. Not enough meaning. Built it up to perfection and tainted it. What happened. Is it the alcohol. Is it apathy. Is it desensitization. Is it disillusioned and lost faith and lost hope. It it a feeling of despair and disappointment of what could have been of the expectations and lost glory. It's the headache. Stop striving for perfection. I do not want others to feel sorry. I'm not going to indulge in this pity for myself. That is weak. I do not know how far sympathy goes. Guilt and sympathy may very well be useless. Highs and lows. How do I undo what I've become? So much frustration. No identity. Don't know how I'm going to cope. I will cope. This will be over. Searching for identity. Too much drinking. Never coming home. No proper meals. Destructive lifestyle for a teenager. Slipping grades. Too many friends. Too little friends. False friends. Bitching friends. Rumours. Stress. Lowered self-esteem. Trying to isolate excuses. Never understanding self. Deciphering feelings and thoughts into concrete words. Contemplating doing silly things. Only contemplating. I will never go through with it. Not because I'm scared. I'm selfish. Because it's weak. I will not be weak. I need to have more empathy. I am not myself. I do not know what I want to do about it. Or how.