It's that time of year again... my birthday. I used to love this time of year. Fall, cooler weather, football season, birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas. The past couple years, though, have led me to hate this season. The days are shorter. I'm not adjusting as well. It's been over a year, and I still don't feel at home here. I haven't made any friends, possibly due to the fact that I'm not a social creature by nature. It's so damn hard to put yourself out there, to open up to strangers. It's never been in my nature to expose myself to potential criticism. Too many years of being the new kid has made me seriously gun-shy. Seven months of therapy hasn't done much for me either, except break down all those wonderfully dysfunctional defenses. Lately I've felt exposed, kind of naked in front of the class without my homework. I've never been comfortable in my own skin, but lately it's worse. Therapy has put some serious chinks in my armor, which is supposed to be good so I can overcome my issues, but in the meantime, I feel too vulnerable. All I can think about is cutting, bleeding, dying, ending the pain. Is this what life is all about? All I can think about is trying to survive the next day. Is it really worth it anymore?
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