jennamaria's Journal

Today I confessed to my boyfriend, and my self, that I might be depressed. It's so weird, and even a bit humilating to admit that you can't handle your own life.


I'm in the middle of my graduate year at a State University. In the last year I've been divorced, moved from my home of 3 years, moved again, and finally, moved again.

I've lost my car.

My University canceled my financial aide.

My previous landlord is witholding desperately needed funds.

I'm having to quit a job I love to take on insane hours at another job, just to keep up with my bills.

I've been stupidly generous with people, and those people now feel guilty that they can't help me in my moments of need.

I've shut all of my friends, no one really knows me anymore.

Tonight my beloved boyfriend nearly walked out on me, on us, because of my recent disinterest in our relationship...

I'm disintered in almost everything now-a-days. I blame it on my busy schedule, but I'm not as productive with homework and assignments as I should be.

If my instructors weren't amazingly caring people - I would have flunked out already.

I'm in a more monetarily desperate situation that I've ever been before.

That's me.