I'm not much for journals and what-not, but I'm feeling relaxed, albeit sick, and my cat has fallen asleep on my lap. Also, I have been wanting to write about this for a little while.

So I broke up with my girlfriend and ran away from home the day before St. Patrick's day. However, I hate to say "ran away from home", #1 because it sounds very immature and teenager-ish (two of the things which I never felt described me), and #2 because I don't actually view this place as a home.

Anywho, I came back a week later, and ever since then I have been trying to figure out why I came back. At my friend Christian's I had a bed to sleep in, there was food, close friendship, but most of all I felt sane and secure. Here, in this little corner of Queen West, sure, sometimes there's decent food, and I do enjoy my antique bed, but I don't feel sane here. I don't feel secure. There's a whole bunch of reasons of which I won't delve into right now, but the fact is that the longer I stay here with my step-dad the less sane I'll be. Considering it's been like this for practically two years, I haven't been feeling well at all. It's been the most stressful, mind-numbing, disturbing, psychological rollercoaster I've ever been through and probably will ever go through. I've had the most terrible thoughts, the desire to do the most horrible actions, and I don't want them. Not anymore.

I can't function properly when I'm around him. I don't feel I can trust him. I don't think he trusts me.

I have to go to bed now. I've been feeling sick since yesterday, so I need my rest. More to come on this subject, assuming of course I don't forget about this journal for another two years!