LIFE SUCKS

I dont even know.

It's hard to lay a finger on it.
I barely even want to think about it.
I'm afraid to live without it.
But now, I'll tell myself the truth.
I've been lying to myself for long, long time.
It's making me sick.
I'm not happy.
I'm so sad.
I can't keep living like this.
It's not right.
I deserve differently.
I shouldn't kill myself inside like this.

It's when I deny myself what I need.
It's when I deny myself what I want.
It's when I do senseless things purely for the endorphin rush.
I will click through page after page after pointless internet page, because it feels good.
It feels good because I feel like that's something to look forward too, because my life is that blank.
I will look in the mirror time after time, in hope that next time what I see will be different.
I will eat and eat and eat and drink and smoke and smoke and sleep.
I will stagnate.
I will not learn and grow.
I will grow moldy, I will become like a scummy pond.
I will not help myself.
I am too afraid.
I will tell myself I can't do something.
That I can't wear that.
That I can't talk to that person.
That I can't sit there.
That I can't do what I want.
Because it would make me look stupid.
I always feel stupid; I always feel peoples eyes upon me.
People look at me. Never in a good way.
They look at me like I'm a freak. What does she think she's doing?
Who does she think she is?
This is not true though, they don't care about me.
I imagine they do, because I couldn't handle it if they didn't.

(I wrote a whole page about how I hate eye contact, at lunch at school one day. The voice was desperate and tormented. I thought I was writing fiction; I realized it was entirely true, and cried during the choir rehearsal later that day. It was the rawest, realest cry I had had since I was probably 2 years old. But I made myself stop because I had to sing and singing doesn't sound good when you're crying -- this might have been a mistake because now I can't open myself up like that again.)

It's when I can't let go of Rafael.
It's when I feel a false obligation to Bridget.
It's when I dread walking by Kiera.
It's when I can't look anyone in the eye.
When I allow myself to bend to the wills of others, or rather, what I percieve their wills to be.
It's when I don't let myself cry, it's when I make myself cry because it feels good.
It's when I lie to myself.
That I'm worthless.
I tell myself all kinds of ridiculous things.
And I believe these things I tell myself, because I have little else to cling to.
I have no friends.
Sure, I hang out with Bridget.
That's it.
I don't even like her.
I just hate being alone all the time, even though I inflict it upon myself.
I feel like I'm not a part of this world.
That I don't belong anywhere.
School makes me sick, it's a prison, it's a circus where I'm the main attraction.
A beautiful web of interactions flows around me, I don't fit into it.
I'm alone here.
Home is no better, I feel too angry and hurt at my family to ever feel like I'm connected to them.
We live together. I don't love them.
I could place the blame on my parents for everything.
They homeschooled me after the 1st grade, up until freshman year of high school.
They tell me now, that I wasn't emotionally mature enough for school.
I wouldn't actually know, I barely remember any of 1st grade.
But really, isolating me like that for 8 years?
Was it necessary?
I almost killed myself the summer after 8th grade, I was so depressed.
They've made it so I don't know how to connect to people.
Not in a healthy way.
They've abused me, and they were the main social interactions of mine for a long time.
They always always call me selfish selfish selfish selfish even though, I think they made me that way.
I don't know how to love, and it's their fault.
I could learn, yes I could learn, but I'm so afraid of people and places and life and everything.
I can't deal with it, not yet.
I need time, I need time to think, time to simmer, time to explore why I am the way I am and figure out how to the hell I can get rid of it all.

I can't laugh anymore, I've forgotten how to smile.
I can't crack a joke can't relax can't sleep at night can't walk a straight line can't shut up can't give hugs can't can't can't can't do fucking anything.
Can't do anything that would make me human again.
I'm turning into a robot and I don't know how to stop this metamorphosis.
I can't feel normal anymore.
Did I ever, though?

Okay, well, my life isn't that bad. You might say I have it good.
But I feel broken inside.
For no fucking reason.
I know I'm really, really young, but right now I feel like I'm headed nowhere.
If I can't get better, if I can't fix myself, that fear will come true.

And so I'm trying to open up. Writing this piece of shit is the first step, the first nod toward my sickness, my causeless inner torment.
Maybe eventually I'll even talk to someone about it.
I know I can get better, I can change.
Regardless of everything I tell myself.
I'm stronger than I think.