I write to feel. All of the feels missing in my life. Everyone needs a little pick me up, right? what it’s like? Waking up in the morning just to lay back down? To lool in the mirror and spend hours nitpicking every flaw, only to realize that it doesn’t matter. Because you’ll never be pretty. So, cover-up yourself. The marks on your neck, your bowed legs, your arms, and thighs. You’re so embarrassed by yourself, that you won’t give anyone else the chance to even say hello. It’s so hot outside, boiling, and yet you dress in your baggy jeans. The oversized hoodie, which you should know you, you got the biggest male size cause that’s all they’ll see anyway. They’ll never see that girl with ponytails. Never the girl with dresses and a cute laugh. Not the one people faun over. No. They only see “it”. The being with the 4x hoodie. The one who games with boys, but can’t enter the bathroom without being mistaken for a pervert. That poor unfortunate soul who everyone thinks is a robber or criminal because they frown and dress in dark clothing. That girl ran out of the food place because the waiter called her a ‘sir’ in front of everyone else. I’m...sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Whenever I talk about my problems, it gets worse. I’m the type of girl who tries to starve herself. Who, out of fear of bothering others, lets herself be a doormat and puts others before herself. Thee type of girl that doesn’t share her ideas, because she wants to give everyone else a chance. The type of girl that cries is anyone fights, or if she’s being yelled at, or if she senses that someone is upset. The one you’ll blame herself for everything. That same one who was sent to a psych ward for seeing demons out to get her family. And even though her suffering, she had to sit and watch people try to sacrifice for her....all because she couldn’t keep it bottled up enough until they walked away. Can you imagine the guilt? The shame?! The pressure of people trying to fix you, when you know you can’t be. Useless. The word of the day. Then the week. And later the year. Recently the decade. Feeling so p useless, so hopeless, that all she could do was sleep it off. Hibernate in her room till she was hungry. And when she had any openings, she would grab food, take it to her room, and hibernate some more. She got so tired of giving, and giving, and feeling so pointless that she became depressed. Tried to take her own life. But do you know why I’m still here? Because I couldn’t even take my life right.Heh. Do you see it? Utterly useless. I was honestly tied of the pain. The resentment. But I was too much of a coward to do it. Can you believe that! I realize that I’m being selfish. I get it. There are people out in the world staving, without education, in debt, and/or running from an abuser or going through mental health and other tough times. But saying that doesn’t make it anyless painful for me to get through my problems. Sorry for unloading on you. I really needed to vent.