I went to my uncle's house for his Christmas celebration today. It wasn't until just a couple of hours beforehand that I changed my mind and decided to, somewhat reluctantly, follow through with it. We go there. We ate ham and pineapple slices, snack foods like Ritz crackers with all the fixins' like summer sausage and cheese cubes, potato and tortilla chips with dip and something else that wasn't appealing to me, which I chose not to eat. Then I went into that long, boring phase of sitting on a chair in their living room, trying to laugh as best as I could when the situation called for it and just pretending I wasn't as bored as I really was. My brother basically did the same thing. That's always how it goes at these visits with the family.

I didn't say anything about what I wanted because for the sake of ###$, I didn't want anything. They got me a jacket that was pretty nice and fit well, and a beanie that my brother got to, which was a little small since it was universal size, but fits nonetheless. I said thanks to them for it.

I got pretty drowsy while I was there, I've heard that it's a characteristic of introversion to feel drained by social gatherings. Now I have to go my mother's celebration tomorrow. I don't feel like it either.

I'm not feeling as bad as before, but I still can't stop thinking about what a bunch of #######4 life has given me and I still want to die. It's tempting to think about them finally learning what I've really been suffering with, and to never have to suffer through it again. I am very deprived of hope, because it's true. There isn't always hope.