discontentment // 3.9.18

dear diary,

i am ashamed of my anxiety. i hate it. i hate who i am to others. no one sees who i see because i literally can’t be myself around anyone. i never even want to see anyone, so how could i work on it if i tried harder? it’ll never get better. this is it. it’ll be here forever and it consumes me. even when i’m not thinking about it it’ll find it’s way to take over. 

aside from anxiety.. i can’t find purpose in anything in life. it all seems worthless. i’ve been thinking about this for a week or two, mostly only when i’m alone with my thoughts. like if i’m not living the exact life i want to have, what’s the point? or what’s even the point in the climb to get to that “goal”? i just want to live and breathe freely. maybe i’m just extremely selfish. maybe i have to be. i don’t want things anymore. i want less and less of everything. less clutter, people, and food. i don’t even think i care about being a disappointment to people anymore. it’s more about what i think of myself which is much better. however.. i keep comparing myself to people when i have too much free time. sometimes it’s okay because i look at people i used to admire and realize that’s not what i want anymore. but mostly it just reminds me of everything i don’t like about myself and how unfair life is. whatever. i’m tired of thinking about this.


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