I don't want to be a burden.
I feel like I wake up each day to the same day over and over again, even if I'm doing different things.
I feel the self hatred I fought so hard to rid myself of, making it's return into my body, my mind, and my soul.
I'm counting pasta noodles to know how many I'm allowed to have.
I feel I don't deserve love if I look the way I do.
My parents think I'm doing well, my sister too probably.
I feel like a robot running on autopilot.
School makes me insane, but what else is there even to do? Work, why? Nothing matters.
I feel this urge to give up every morning, and every afternoon I throw myself into doing something so I don't remember how much pain I was in hours earlier.
I think I'm a bad person for venting, especially to people who have a harder life than myself.
Yet I do it again and again, because holding it in makes me want to stop forcing things and let myself crumble.
But I can't crumble. People depend on me not crumbling.
I'll never not be this mentally ill person that I am.
Life is great, yet I can't seem to see that. I can't seem to feel that. I can't seem to be that.
