On October 27th, my diary will be five years old.

That's the longest I've ever done anything.

Sometimes reading about who I was in the past makes me sad. But, no matter how many other accounts I sign up for, I always come back.

I wrote in this diary throughout highschool, every serious relationship I've been in and all my depressions. Jesus, I even talk about how I used to cut myself and how, when I was fifteen, I wanted to kill myself because my best friend "betrayed me".

I've grown up so much since I started this diary that it's almost embarassing to look back. I read about my 'terrible depression' now-a-days and just laugh--because it's all I can do.

I think, if fifteen year old Nichole read about what life would be like in the future, she'd be a little less bummed. I mean, if nothing else, she would know that it only got worse.

Before it got better, that is.