The charade is over. I'm still not okay.

I know that the charade is over, I'm still not okay, and I still have to breathe somedays for no reason at all but the music. I don't pity myself nor do I want pity or sympathy, no way am I begging for love or being obnoxious for attention. It just gets to me sometimes that I screw up every chance to happiness I get without meaning to. Imagine, if I did't say a few things or if I didn't react to something, I would be happy today. But no. God must hate me. Somedays I wish I didn't look the way I do, people label me as the people that somewhat destroyed me. They don't have a fucking clue to who I am, or what I do, or what I want to be. They just go "she's another stuck up chick" and all that shit. Every chance I get for individuality is taken away from me, all I have left is my freedom of speech and all the shit I do. Yeah, I would have cut and bled and died, the only reason I have left is the band, maybe someday we could be something. My bandmates mean the world to me, it's just that sometimes I don't mean that much to them, they have no idea they are the reason for my living.