I used to enjoy the simplest things. Eating ice cream in a hot summer day,running around outside, reading and writing, cooking, talking to friends but as I got older a lot of those things stopped bringing me joy.
I became lactose intolerant. I can't run outside because then my Eczema on my face and arms will start to itch because of the pollen or cold air. I don't have much time to cook and when I do I'm to tired.
I used to love reading before I was laughed at for having trouble with it. The only things that keep my hopes up are my friends and writing. I've always had trouble expressing myself, especially since I grew up constantly getting laughed at and made fun of for different things about myself so writing about stuff always helped. My friends usually helped too but either they don't have time or their too busy laughing at me and my writing.
Now I don't know what to do. It feels like I'm been crammed back into that awful little box of hate and this time the people pushing me in are also bolting the box shut.
I don't feel like I can write anything or even write well enough to continue. I've had a learning trouble with my spelling and reading from a young age and this has helped me a lot but now I don't even know if I can do anything anymore and I just want to disappear.
I don't want to feel like this but I cannot help that I'm so sensitive to negativity and other things. I've been tortured by others and myself for years and now I see it will never stop not even if I think my new friends are good or if I think my writing is good. Right now I don't want to be a good writer, I just want to be dead.
