Dear Diary,

A bit of sleeplessness. Day three of my cleanse was easy enough to manage, I actually didn't feel as tired as I did yesterday, although this time it's definitely different- I feel quite a bit more toxic. And I don't think I've really lost any weight so far, maybe a pound.

Whilst going through my piles of stuff, I found a reading I had gotten sometime pretty soon after M and I had broken up. It just made me sad. I can't believe that I can still feel sad about it, but I do. I feel sad about everything that happened, how it ended, and that he didn't respond to me at all in the past year or so when I tried to reach out to him.

Every now and then I will search for him on the internet... without much luck. Since his former wife started an affair with someone on MySp@c3, he was not a big fan of social networking. He has no profile anywhere. The only thing I found were a couple of blog posts on the website for the place where he does martial arts. He writes about being real, and being connected. Which enrages me and makes me sadder. What a hypocrite. He can write all that crap, but can't deal with me.

Seeing his pictures on that site make me sad- somehow just remembering him. I can't be sure, but in one photo it looks like he has a tattoo on his chest. He had often talked about getting a tattoo. Poor M. He can tattoo himself and do martial arts all he wants, but he has always been lost inside, not knowing who he is, and doing everything he can to try to look cool.

I guess it's fitting that I am doing a cleanse and feeling these old feelings of grief and depression and anger coming up again. Maybe this time I can be done with it for good. I tell myself to let it go. Let it go. LET IT ALL GO. Give up on him ever contacting me, or giving my things back. It's easier said than done, letting go.

I am just living through some loneliness, for sure. Three and a half years single now... many years of heartache behind me. I try to give up on love too, to let that go, but I'm not so successful at that either. I try not to beat myself up for the way I look, the weight I've gained, the fact there are gray hairs on my head. The beauty is on the inside, right? Hard to believe that some days when everything around you emphasizes looks and society's idea of beauty.

I called my parents, I guess I wanted some comfort. My mother is such a drag. She had a minor surgery that they said she would heal from in a couple days. It's been weeks now and she insists that she is in pain and can't do this or that. My mother is a drama queen, and I'm believing that she helps to create her own pain. She loves to interject into the conversation and complain about her condition. It's a fucking drag. I don't want to be my mother. I don't want to create more pain for myself, and I don't want to live out her pain. Sometimes I fucking hate her, I really do.

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