If you're not sick, why are you in bed all day?
I am sick, I want to tell him.
Sick in the head.
Depressed.
What is the purpose of being alive?
Why don't I just end it all?
I watched 'I Feel Pretty' yesterday at the cinemas.
Isn't the message of the movie supposed to inspire people like me?
I don't feel pretty.
I feel disgusting. As always.
Help me.
I can't eat, I can't talk, I have no friends.
I want to shave my head, because what is the point of being beautiful?
Of trying to impress someone?
Of having fun?
Of feeling inspired?
Of feeling worthy.
I feel a prisoner in my own skin. I want to get out but I can't. It's hopeless.
I'm hopeless. Worthless.
'Chubby, not fat', they say. It's all the same. I know what they really mean.
Even if I had the perfect body, that wouldn't change anything. I'd still be stuck in my mind.
Some days are fun, when I can forget about everything. Other days I wonder why I haven't ended it all sooner.
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random diary entries
De Todobasically my sorry ass ranting my 'problems' to wattpad