Everything I write on here is like my diary. I feel completely safe and sound. I mean every word and try to write from my heart. I’m insecure about myself and although I may walk with my head high like nothing bothers me, too many things do. I have too many problems and no one would begin to guess what they are. You may look at me and think that my life is great, but it really isnt. When they say things aren’t what they seem it’s true. Because I’m not what I seem. Tonight my dad came home wicked drunk like he usually does, disapears for awhile, comes back reaking worse than he did before and smuggles a bottle of wine in the basement. I’m not suppose to mix alcohol with my anti-depressants but sometimes I just sit in my room and finnish the bottle of wine that I find down stairs. I don’t do it all the time, just sometimes. It surprises me every single time that I open up to a person that I’m not really friends with, it shocks me when they say “mine too” or I know someone who’s an alcoholic or an addict. It always is hard to tell people because they assume that all alcoholics are bums and assholes and thats true they are, but only when theyre drunk. My dad is the greatest person on the planet. But it hurts that because hes an addict he lies all the time about  everything. So thats one thing you wouldnt know about me, that my dads an alcoholic. The other thing you wouldn’t ever guess is that technically, I haven’t had my first kiss yet. Which is sad to think about. What I mean by technically is that my first kiss was stolen from me because I turn around and this random guy just starts making out with me and I’m thinking what the fuck do I do in this situation? No matter how many guys I’ve kissed after that I haven’t had feelings for any of them so it means nothing. The other sad thing about me is that slowly, I’m beginning to give up on everything and even on myself. even more shockingly-I’m starting to give up on art. Anyone who knows me would see this as a red flag that something is wrong. Because art is my life and the only thing that I am good at and enjoy doing. I don’t know whats wrong with me. But everything is tumbling down like a house of wooden blocks that you use to build when you were a kid. I’ve had enough. I give up.