I don't know what it is exactly you think will be accomplished by writing things down about myself. But since you asked, let me give you the rundown.
I have an emotionally distant mother and a dead father.
I have had anxiety since I can remember, and have been treated once for depression–although that treatment failed.
Given my need to keep my past hidden, the closer you try to get to me, the more I lie.
I have an annoying habit of saying no to all the right men and yes to all the wrong—recently showcased by my affair with a married man, while distancing myself from the one I'm really in love with.
But knowing me, you will never get the chance to actually read this. Instead, I will numb myself with the contents of a bottle, rip these candid words from the journal, and carry on as if I still recognized the reflection staring back at me in the mirror.