I don't feel good, went over to my therapists office, he told me that I met all the criteria for CPTSD. I spent today in a state of depressive holdoff. All of my old habits are gone, I don't bite my nails anymore, I don't make funny voices, none of that sort of stuff. I just exist. In that sense, I am fine, 
though I don't feel as if I'm "me" anymore. I don't know if it was the episode I had or if all of that was just some coping mechanism to distract myself from my biggest problem. I read through yesterday's log with a "clearer" head. It came off as an insane rambling, which I guess goes with what I'm going 
through. I hope in a few years after I remember this account exists after long abandoning it, I'll read through these logs and think back to how my life started to get better, how I started to live my OWN life. 

Told a friend about the change, he was happy to hear it. He was accepting, a word of which I don't think could've been used with anyone outside of my online spaces that I talk in. Though he has a bit too much spirit for it, immediately asking questions that I've been trying to answer myself. His parents are 
controlling, reading through his texts, that sort of thing. Making sure that he doesn't say anything out of line. I told him to go onto a different platform that had less of a rudimentary system of deleting so I could hide the evidence easier. He has now become a vector for this knowledge-disease. I just hope 
he quarantines himself for mine and his wellbeing. 

I don't tell my mom the whole truth of how I'm doing, as it'd worry her to no end. Most of what I say is ridden with doublespeak to make it sound nicer, hiding the actual traumatic events I go through on a weekly basis behind poorly constructed word soups. Is it exactly fair to her: no. Is it exactly fair to 
me: also no. But the town I live in calls for that. Friends with the same quirk as me live a life on the verge of becoming a satistic on a daily basis. We are looked down upon for factors we cannot change, for reasons spread by evil, hateful, people. This one problem isn't mnemonically correct to share just 
yet, not for me and not for her. One little slip-up and my life becomes much, much harder to live through. I wish I could just be happy, I wish my problems would just go away, let me see the joy in my situation, let me feel as if I'm an internal citizen of my town's community, not alienated by forces I cannot change.