I don't really know what to write about anymore, I love writing. I find I can express myself in ways I can't do physically. But, I guess I never want to talk about me? I try and pick a topic and write about it, but what if I want to just blab on about my day and how the lettuce on my sandwich was soggy for lunch. (World war problems soggy lettuce btw) So this is going to be about me, read on if you want, if not then I understand that my life doesn't interest you. (And my soggy lettuce) I'm happy. Sometimes I think I'm not, I talk myself into feeling like I'm unsuccessful in everything I set out to do. I put myself down before I've had a chance to work myself up! I guess that is a flaw of mine. I'm on medication for depression and I have been for just over 2 years. I'm at a point or was were I thought about bringing down my dosage, so I did, (doctors orders of course) and but by bit my happiness started to slide away. (I'd like to point out...
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