This journal is a little depressing. (But help me out anyway?)

I have these thoughts - doesn't everyone? Sometimes they're good thoughts...but sometimes, not so much. Although lately I have been feeling slightly cheery (especially last night), before that, I wasn't doing so good.

I always thought that I was alone. And the truth, for me, right now, is that I am. I am alone in everything that I do, because it is who I am. I don't like talking to people I don't know (unless...yeah. Let's not go there) and most of the time, I just want to be alone.

I've always been alone.

Growing up. I have two sisters, and a brother. My sister was off and had her own group, her friends. Being the first child, she had the attention of my parents for the longest time. She has everything, and she is just fine. I know things haven't been perfect, but she's had other people. My sister (Kaela) and my brother (Khan) were involved in everything together - and still are. They go off and do their own things, while my other sister is off with her friends. Where does that leave me? I've always grown up alone, because I'm different to them. I'm used to being alone, because it's all I've ever known. I hate it, and I wish it was different - heck, I've TRIED for years for everything to be different - but it's not going to change, because trusting and being with someone is something that I've never had. The one trust I did have was in my father, and look at how that turned out. It's a struggle just to write this, believe it or not.

I have more thoughts to think about.

I've accepted that there's no point in even trying to find love in this hell hole because I'm not going to make him drag his life to France with me when I move (even if he really did love me, which, nowadays, is doubtful). I'm not even sure if I want to be an English Teacher in France anymore. Not when I know my abilities can be used elsewhere. I want to be a counsellor - not a b/s one, though. Like, a real one, where people can trust me, and feel at ease to talk. I want to stop people from giving up on life.

Last night was my sister's twenty first party (but her actual birthday isn't until the 21st of December!). Everyone got drunk and honestly, it was just so much...fun. Everyone loved the cake I made (and my friend just sparked up another career idea for me). My sister and I cried when my dad gave the birthday girl her present - it was a ukelele! It's just a family joke, but holy smoke, it meant a whole lot. My grandma started up a 21st key as my sister is the oldest grandchild, and to my dismay, I only get it for a month when I turn twenty one, 'cause my cousin is one month younger than me. Sucky, I know.

Lots of other stuff happened (including finding my sister's flatmate - a guy I work with - sitting on the end of my bed, writing in my sister's birthday book. It was...weird. He doesn't like me).

My sister looked gorgeous, and my next journal will probably contain photos of "the seven" of us. (The "seven" is basically my sisters and brother and I (4) with my faux aunt's kids. We grew up together. Toni, Corey, Grady, Kaela, Courtney, Me and Khan.)

Is in a good mood, despite the tone of this journal,
alone; together

"Even if we're all alone, at least we're all alone together."