It gets hard, you know?
Knowing that everything is messed up, and somehow thinking that it's my fault when most of the time it isn't.
Every time I think about it, it gets harder and harder.
I get get teary-eyed, and this knot in my chest keeps growing and growing until... until I explode.
I don't want to explode, and I don't mean to. But I feel like whatever I do, I just mess it up.
Even when I try to helpnor try to fix it, I feel like everything just gets screwed up even more.
Why am I alive? Why was I chosen to live, and not someone else?
Sometimes, I wish that I could trade my life and give it to someone else so they could live a good life while I fester in a pool of my own blood.
It gets hard living, knowing that I'm a mistake.
People say that I matter, and that they care for me.
But I need constant reassurance that they still love me and I still matter.
Living is hard, but it gets even harder when my brain randomly chooses something from the past up and it makes me thinknofnit for hours.
A few people say that I'm still stuck in the past when I know I'm not.
It may be partly my fault that I don't open up to them, but I feel like if I do I will get pushed away.
I fear that they will not love me when I tell them all of the things I'm interested in, and what I would like to do.
But it's not that easy, is it?
I wish I didn't have this much anxiety.
People say that I don't have to be nervous, or it's all in my head;
Well, they're right.
It's a disease like any other one. The brain is an organ just like any other in your body.
It helps you stay alive, and yet...
Yet people don't take things like Anxiety, or Depression, or anything of the sorts seriously until it's too late.
Maybe if they noticed more on how they react to things you do, or what you say about certain things.
I've learned to hide a lot of what I feel towards things.
I wish.... I wish I didn't have this feeling all the time.