I'm Pretty Sure Something's Not Right Around Here

Technically I do not turn another year older until 5:08am, but come midnight I wrote this disturbing entry:

I once believed Love existed, then I realized Love is cruel and callous. Love exists only if you love yourself, only if you have the capability for hope and bravery. The absence of Love is here, in my shallow heart. It is where coldness resides and a lump forms with each stroke of pen. The absence of Love grows within me for there is nothing and no one to Love. To cherish and appreciate. I am a ghost among men, among the mortals who feel and cherish the fragility and beauty of life. I, who bloom from the bowels of cynicism and distrust, laugh at your foolishness. I accept my loneliness, my disgust of fate and the cruelty of nothingness. I concede to oblivion. 

Clearly something is wrong; between sinking to a new low in my food neurosis, an increasing distrust of others, an even harsher criticism of myself, and a sense of superb instability (despite it looking like I've got my shit together)... I am officially in I'm freaking my fucking self out territory. Doesn't that sound fun? Not.