I have never really believed in a New year's resolution to be honest. It isn't something i thought that would be full-filled? I always thought when you set these goals that by the end of the year, eventually one or more of them would be reached right? In good faith, i am going to say i sure hope so. Not going to lie, i have set these goals in the past and i have had them go way off the planet. I'm not the only one i'm sure, life gets in the way and physical and metal issues arise of course. You see, long ago i was a great organiser, in fact i still am but on a more messy level. You could say i am an expert in organised chaos now. Anyways, i was a perfectionist and always put work first over just about anything. I lost hobbies, i only cared about controlling my life to be absolutely perfect to the best of my ability. I am going to admit that i absolutely hate failure. Back then, i hated failure with a passion! In my opinion it was unacceptable. I'm not going to blame anyone for that way of thinking that was pushed onto me but it really messed with my mental health when failing actually became something of a common occurrence. Around that time, i had a pretty good life and everything was in order, or so it seemed to me. I had a 9-5 office job, which in Sydney back then was super important to have. I was 21, i was in a long term relationship, i was happy, saving for a place to move out into with my partner, i had money and i could get whatever i wanted in my boundaries. My family and friends were great and i assumed i was happy. Well, somewhere in all of that "good life" i started to fail and became unhappy with my weight also. Before i realised my weight was a problem, i was content. Until a few close family members picked onto it, i started to think more and more about it of course, as a perfectionist thinks. As my mind kept thinking and thinking it evolved into more of a sickness. I quickly developed which i have been clinically diagnosed with and seems not cured from, Anorexia Nervosa. On top of that, i was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. So, in a way, i got lucky. All jokes aside, i did not ask for those three illnesses all at once, yet they work hand in hand. During the development, i had to quit my job, i pushed everyone away, and i started realising how imperfect i was. I was already so hard on myself as a perfectionist, but my illness only made it so much more personal and hurtful day in and day out. The best way i could distract myself from the horror of life, was staring mindlessly at tv. I used to be a bubbly, open, funny and witty person. I loved people. When i became sick, i hated the sight and presence of people. Even people closest to me, i wanted to be alone. I knew my family and friends were there for me and loved me dearly, and that is what put my suicidal thoughts at somewhat of a distance as i cared too much about them to ever hurt them in such a way. I tend to think too much, and in those thoughts, i for once wanted to think about myself and let me leave this god forsaken world where i continuously feel that i am not good enough for it. In the moments of my overflowing thoughts the main thing that pushed me to keep being here for others was that i absolutely hate letting people down and upsetting them. In my opinion that path that i thought of, that just wanted an escape from life, actual living was my caring nature. Damn me for caring too much about others, i refuse to be selfish and that is why i guess i will never recover if i don't change my views and thought processes. Before this diary entry turns into a book, which hey, i am not going to under-estimate that from occurring in the future, today i noticed one thing. I think it is okay to be selfish sometimes. Key word there is sometimes. I think i know when those moments are, well i think.