And because of this struggle with emotions, I want to eat, which is my ingrained method of dealing with pain and confusion. I eat because it's simple. It is food, it goes in my stomach, I feel better, for a while. But that has its own anxiety attached to it. So I sit here and stew about things and try my best to not eat.

I feel like I'm going to burst. I feel like I would like to just be finished here in this life. I don't want to play anymore. It's been a long time since I've felt that way and it's scary as usual, but I remember this feeling. It's familiar.

My home is a disaster. I don't have the energy to clean and do laundry because I haven't fixed the pipe and it's such an effort.

Fuck I just don't know what I'm doing here. I'm just sitting here listening to music and typing and I have other things to do,

ACHUW
AOUHC
OUSHE
VJOCUR
foHFROIJ
FUHNVRRC

fUck.

me me me me me me me me me. that's all I ever think about. Maybe that's why everyone goes away eventually.