It's 2 years from my last journal.
A lot of changed.
A lot of stayed.

I thought I am getting better, but I feel like I am getting worse.

I feel like I am hurting everyone around me, like I am stone to them. I don't want talk with anyone, to not hurt them.

My depressions got worse, I got hospitalized even... Medication does not help, therapy has long waiting list...

My fetishes are... Empty. With no use, no meaning... I love drowning and scuba and breathplay, so much so I don't care to risk my life.... Many don't understand... I don't too...

Petplay was large part of my life, slaveplay or petplay... Sometimes border is too small... But it meant a lot for me. It meant I had someone I could use for a help... To stand on my own next to them... Now I am alone... Lonely failure.

I don't think I have friends, and if I do, I am sorry for them.... I know I will die, I just don't know when, and I know how miserable it feels to know that person...

I have boyfriend... Or I had? He does not want spend time with me, or care about me.... I don't know our relationship anymore.

So got I better or worse?
Probably worse.

I hope I will not have to write next diary in two years....