I’m too old. Too old.
I can’t do anything. I have to decide what I’m going to do because obviously it won’t be something big or will make me happy. I’m already in my 20s and ah
god, where my life has gone? I’ve been dead for so many years that it’s too late already.
I don’t even know what could make me happy.
I’m so jealous of people my age or younger that have already make it, and they’re happy. I need to find a job and wait until I die.
God. I’ve been crying for 2 days. I hate myself, I ruined my life with this damn thing and the sadness and everything. I don’t want to see myself at the future. I can’t.

It’s so hard to breathe and exist.
I feel bad letting my feelings out.
I don’t want to cry, I don’t want to feel as I always feel.
But how I wish I weren’t here.
This reality of mine.
It feels like friction. I should been doing something else, I should be someone different, I should feel different.
But I think I’m more realistic. This sucks, a lot and hurts a lot and existing is awful and I’m going to be alone forever but I won’t cry. Because this is awful. I’m going to break something instead but I don’t want to be a victim anymore. No.
I don’t want to think, I don’t want to keep still for long because then I remember and I feel like dying.
I still want to die but I won’t think about it and this place is hell but I’m so stupid.

Feelings
Anxiety
Why is so hard to be a human being?
Well, ah.
I don’t want to cut. I won’t. I’m stronger than that. I won’t. No.

I’m exhausted. I want to give myself a day to rest and give up but I know that if I do that, the sadness will slowly take over again.
I was so tired and sad that I prayed for the first time in years. My relation with God is complicated. I’m indiferent. I haven’t thought about it deeply but I’m so tired.
I’m so tired, mad and sad but I’ll keep going.
I really want to get better. I’d beg anyone, anything.

That awful feeling is coming back again.
But I felt good, I want to feel good. I want to live and be happy. I want to be happy.
I hate this place and these words and to write, I just want to be happy.

Food makes everything feel so unreal and worse.
I don’t know if I’m proud of myself because my head tells me; ‘don’t be a fool, this is useless, you did it before and was useless’. I want to try.
He calls me but I ignore his calls, I can’t do it again, I need to try. This last month was probably one of the hardest moments of my life and I made so many mistakes, I’m ashamed of what I’ve done, but sometimes I feel I can’t stop myself and I want to answer the phone.
This other new girl is trying to do the same as well. It’s like, there’s a lot of manics in the world and I am a target. She talks and talks and those people always think they can turn on a person with compliments and just because I don’t say no that means they got me.
I hate how people link sex to people’s malleability.
But it’s not my right to complain, it’s my fault to keep being the same horrible person as always and I feel so disgusted by everything on me.
I just want to close my eyes and forget all of that happened and forget what’s in my mind.

Last night I lay down next to my mother and I cried for hours. She got so scared and didn’t stop asking me; ‘what’s wrong?’ and ’talk to me’. But it’s hard for me to talk about this. I only can write here, not directly to someone, but to myself only, it’s easier. Words get stuck on my throat, like needles. I try, I want, but I can’t. I’m so ashamed, it’s everything so ridiculous and pointless, everytime I’m about to talk there’s this thing on my head reminding me how useless it’s, how stupid I am.
I can’t even talk with my doctors, I only say little vague answers and nod. Always, I always say little vague answers or nod to everyone.
I’m rotting on my bed, I keep missing school, I can’t help it. I need, I must to get up. I must. I can’t stand it anymore, I need to get up and move, but it’s so hard. Something inside is keeping me down.
But everything will be fine now. He’s here.