I told my parents I would go home today but I hate the thought of running away from my problems. Never have I ever felt so alone and unloved. Perhaps it’s first a testimony to my spiritual health, second, one to the crappiness of people surrounding me. Upon reading this I think some people will pity me and others, twistedly enough, will feel empowered. And here’s the problem with writing honestly.
Patience is the hardest. Then come honesty and compassion. I try my best to see things from others’ perspectives, but how understanding can you be while still respecting yourself and holding yourself to high standards. It has been a difficult, trying second semester. It’s hard to believe that things got worse, not better.
I’m not sure how to resolve all of this. I’m thinking and thinking and still I have no solution. I can’t come to an insightful conclusion. I’m just on rocky ground trying with all my strength to keep balance.

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