Untitled

I don't even know where to start. I've been here before one million times. But here it is again. On the internet, pouring out my soul to well meaning strangers who don't know me, who certainly can't help me.

But I do it anyway. And I will probably delete this some days from now and berate myself for my stupid, [insert vanilla insult here] nature. Why? Because I'm unhappy and I won't do anything about it. I never do. I let life happen to me as though it is something I have no control over. I do that again and again until I think the only decision I can make is to. stop. living. And I know why that is. Because I am afraid of consequence. I am afraid of choice. I know that if I'm not here, I don't have to face the consequences of my actions. (Religion aside, hell is not a debate I care to have. That is enough of a weight on my mind as it is).

At twenty-two, I already have so many regrets. It's a bit ridiculous, honestly. If I were to sit down with someone and actually talk about what my day to day is like I doubt they would believe me. I put up such a front. I want to be happy so I pretend. I pretend so well sometimes that I even fool myself. And then on days when I can't, I lash out. I get angry, I get despondent, I get suicidal.

But what is there to do. If I am at the point where I shut off a motivational fitness video and cry because someone I look up to asks me indirectly through a camera what living is to me, what am I doing with my life? I don't want to do this anymore, but I can't fight the weak, pathetic person inside me that is actively chaining me down to my own grave. Do I deserve happiness? Doesn't everyone? God only knows. But I can't seem to find it. But how do I find it if I can't even find the strength to try?