Good days.

Today is a good day. I've learned to separate my days in good and bad. Today is a good one.

Things here at home are calm. I cannot say that things are great, because they never really are. Since my last breakdown (last post, which, btw, I though no one would read – thing that didn't happen) I've realized that writing my thoughs in english is way more easier than in portuguese. It is quite an absurd, since I'm native in portuguese. But, anyway.

I've begun to read a new book (even tough I haven't finished any of the one's I've started) that it is really good. It calls My New American Life, and it is about an Albanian girl who now lives in New Jersey. In anyway, I'm in the beginning, but it's a good read material.

Another thing that shows that today is a good day is that the sky is clear and bright. And blue. Has been a couple weeks since we'd have a day like this one. I'm going to do something useful now – like, I don't know, write my fanfiction. Oh, one more reason of the good day: I went to the gym. Thanks God for that.

PS: Milena, I didn't believe anyone would read this, but I'm really glad (and embarrassed, somehow) you've done it. Thank you for the conforting words, even tough sometimes I believe it isn't true, you kinda of helped me. Thanks sugar. :D

Confessions.

And things keep going wrong. I feel like crying. But then again, I feel like crying over 20% of the time. I look like I wanna cry just in 5% of those 20%. It will complete almost two months that I am on vacations. Two months of doing nothing. Two months of working in the house like I am some kind of housekeeper. Two months of not gaining a thing, but listening to a hell lot of critics. All the time. Almost all the days of those two months. Christmas has passed and so has my 16^th birthday. I didn't got a present. I maybe don't gain a single present since my 13^th birthday. And my 11^th Christmas. But hey, I've learned to not complain. Not show how those missing presents feel so bad in me. And today isn't a good day. I've lost again. Ate some Toddy and sugar, almost throw up. I wish I'd had. I was at the airport today. I saw a girl that looked like a model. Blond, well-dressed, skinny. With a guy. That depressed me. And the fact that this one thing was enough to depress me bugs me a lot. I got depressed because I saw a girl that was looking like I'd wish I'd looked. How sad and pathetic is that? And so I went to see how much was I weighting. 72 pounds. 72. I should just kill myself because doesn't actually look like something can get better. I didn't go to the gym yesterday. And today. I have friends who traveled to Europe this vacations. I have friends who ae living in Australia. In Belgium. And I can't even get out of my house. Again, how sad and pathetic is that?