2005-07-01 || 8:36 p.m.
I don't know how much more I can deal with on my own.
I need some sort of help, but I'm not going to seek it.
Shall I go for my goal?
I want to.. but I'm scared.
I feel it rising up in the back of my throat, eating away at me.
Pain. That's what this is.
I guess it is what I have to do to reach this stupid silly little goal.
Who am I trying to fool? This is no stupid silly little goal, this is my whole world. My whole life. I can't possibly push myself any farther than I have. Or can I? Am I not doing enough?
Should I go back to the old ways of making things work? Discipline. Punishment. Hurt. Anger. Proving to myself, and the world I can.
It was clock work. It was not a hobby. It was a way of life. For every action there was a punishment. No matter if I did good or bad, until I finally hit that spot.
I've made my decision, Catie is on her way to get me, I'm going to the store.
I'm pushing myself beyond belief.
30 more to go.
