Dear Diary,

I went to therapy today and told her my embarrassing issues that I am having with my life. She told me that I should be writing in this journal so I went and bought a nice journal that could last me a while. So here I am writing in this journal. I have been trying to figure out why she that. It just confuses me. Like I am just a sixteen-year-old girl named Naomi Tanaka, form the middle of nowhere to here, Los Angeles, the second largest cities in the United States. I think I might drop out of therapy because she said this journal can be like my therapy season. So I finally leave therapy.

A little about me my name is Naomi Tanaka, I am usually with my friends. I went to therapy because people said I seemed alone and depressed. So then I moved to Los Angeles and I was forced to make friends. They seemed to like me, but I don't know if I like them. So I just fake liking them and started being someone else because they would never like the real me. No one notices me. I was bullied when I was younger by my friends in my old school, so that headed me towards going to everything.