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 I guess I should write.

I can't stand Barry sometimes. I think all parents think that of their children. Especially smelly, dependent, teenage children who can't communicate. He's sweet now that he's sleepy and sleeping. He's especially cute when he finds a new toy. I just can't deal with the garbage eating, leash pulling, human jumping version of him. 

I love him a lot, but I'm coming to realize that he takes up a lot of my time.

The imposter syndrome is super real. I can't help feeling totally helpless. I hate my task. I don't want to talk to people! I hate feeling stupid and I hate asking questions, and I hate that when people explain them to me I don't know what the flying fuck they are talking about. And I don't think I'm good at expressing that this style of teaching is making me super uncomfortable and I doubt that I'll ever learn anything cause I'm good at learning things while I do them and not like that.

The expectations of me aren't lined up well. I should just talk to Lynn someday.

This is making me stressed out at work. Not knowing fucking anything. 

It's making me dread working. I really. Hate. This feeling. The feeling of not being able to take a break. The feeling of being my own person. The feeling of being alone. 

I can't help feeling so alone. 

I hate that the people that I want to be like wants nothing to do with me and I hate that I'm unable to be the person that I want to be. I hate that I freak out and act like such a weirdo all the time. I hate myself sometimes.

I hate myself all the time. 

I hate that people I don't want to associate myself with keep trying to associate themselves with me. I'm not sure if I'm a magnet for nice people that I can't relate to or what. Or that maybe I hate being nice. 

 I think I might need a therapist. 

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