Everything sucks sometimes. (Major angst alert)

I've been so stressed and depressed lately. Nothing seems to be going right, and the things that do go right are marred by the things that don't. I'm tired and sad and even when it seems like I'm not, I am. And it's all kind of boiled down to now, sitting upstairs while my boyfriend is sleeping downstairs because he won't talk to me about what I need to talk about, feeling embarrassed because I grabbed a pajama top with some sort of stain-- probably applesauce-- on it.

I don't really have anyone to talk to. I have no real close friends anymore, no one in the vacinity who I can grab a hot chocolate with and sit down and just cry. I've got Laura, yes, and she is lovely in all of her British wonderfulness, but I can't just dump on her, because she has a lot of her own problems.

K is sick of my problems apparently, so I can't talk to her anymore and even when I can, it is tinged by all the arguments we've been having. Did I tell you she went back to the girlfriend of K? She did. Didn't last more then two days but apparently it has nothing to do with me and her.

I'm sick still. I haven't slept properly in two weeks, my boss is a douche.... I just feel like I'm falling apart at the seams. I thought tonight would make things better, maybe I could have a real talk with The Boyfriend about things and maybe tell him how I've been feeling about everything, but all I've gotten is a marathon of big bang theory and a 'Okay, goodnight I guess'. All I want if for him to come up here and hug me and tell me everything will turn out and I'll be okay. But I haven't gotten that.

At the same time I'm angry. Angry at him for not being what I need, not realizing I need him to talk to. Angry at K for the girlfriend of K and not knowing the girl she's decided to date is stupid for ever needing anything besides K and her lovely wonderful perfectness. But I'm mostly angry at myself. I get myself into all kinds of stupid trouble and I shouldn't be moping about like a 16-year old. I'm 20. I'm supposed to be a fucking adult. But it feels like I can't get my fucking act in gear and I hate myself for it.

That's what it kind of comes down to. I hate myself. I'm fat and unattractive and stupid. I'm incapable of running my own life and even when I try to forewarn people about my mistakes, they don't listen. I have no real talents to give me a guide with what my life should be. Everyone usually has that one thing that they both excel at and love, but I don't. I'm not good at math or science. I'm creative, but my creativity doesn't match my skill level and when I try to fix that the results are so horrible that I give up, it feels like there's no point in trying. I'm not overly smart and I'm not incredibly funny, I tread this fine line between good at a lot of things and bad at a lot of things.

The only real skill I have is writing, and even then it's only creative writing. I'm bad at essays or analytical paragraphs or anything that could feasibly make me money. I'm a good writer but not great, but I'm not bad enough to come up with some self-obsessed bullshit like twilight.

He grinned his crooked smile at me, stopping my breath and my heart. I couldn’t imagine how an angel could be any more glorious. There was nothing about him that could be improved upon.

*sigh* This is what the people want. Apparently fatal flaws and personality mean nothing, teenagers want a blank and meaningless person to project themselves onto. Sadly I am incapable of this.

I'm kind of incapable all around, aren't I?

:(