It was 2.00am, I was completely alone and I lost it. The more I read the Bell Jar and the deeper I get into her subconscious, the more I see how similar we both are. The emotions inside of me that I can never put words to or explain, were opening out in front of me in an array of perfectly chosen words.

And the more I read, the more I felt as if these words and phrases were actually being projected from my brain into the pages. As if Esther Greenwood is actually me.

This is so cliche-ridden and probably every person who ever read this book felt the same... but I don't care.

I thought about my own position in the world. How pointless and carbonated my life is. How every day is exactly the same and how I'm forever waiting for something to drag me out. Then the more I thought, the worse I felt and the worse I felt, the more I cried.

I told myself I couldn't take it anymore and that I was suffocating in my own skin. Then I cried some more, after finally admitting to myself that I must have a problem. I must. I can't tell reality from what's inside my mind... and I lie. I lie constantly. I make up the most stupidest of things and don't even realise I'm doing it. Then afterwards I see I have created this little world of fantasy, which I don't even live in. I have portrayed myself as a different person to everyone I've ever met, that I don't even know who I actually am anymore.

Then I got angry. I looked at the pictures on my wall and I hated everyone of them. I hated them all for pretending that they understand and that they know what I'm going through. They write their songs and they film their movies and they think they know how I feel. But they don't. I always thought that they did, but I realised last night that they don't. I thought music was the one place where people understood how I felt, but I cried last night and told myself that they don't.

I committed myself to the ultimate teenage cliche by saying "No one understands me".

Then I felt even worse because I can't stand being any sort of cliche. But I just can't help but listen to those stupid phrases that wedge themselves inside my mind and refuse to get out. I hate them.

So at that point, when my eyes were sore and red, I turned off the light and hid under the covers. Then I slept and the next morning I got up, had my breakfast and continued as normal. Meanwhile, this huge swirling vortex inside me grows and grows, before once again it explodes and leaves me to piece myself back together.