Dear Diary,
It's all back. I just didn't do things when I was supposed to. When it was all perfect. I tried. But i didn't do the best.
Now it's all back, the excessive, constant anxiety. I think I committed to her a little bit the other day, without even having a job! I hate it. Crying was a good, calm escape last year. Which was deep, content. But not anymore. I'm searching for the calm, very very badly.
I need it because it feels unbearable.