I Don't Want To Be Alive Right Now

It's like, I see people on tumblr and insta and tiktok crying their eyes out about how miserable they are, sharing their traumas so openly.

And I feel bad for them, I do. But then this small, cruel part of me thinks, "they don't know how easy they have it."

I look at their rooms, their clothes, their faces, their art, their talents and recoil in jealousy. And I really do feel bad for them! I hate seeing other people in pain!

But damn I wish I had a room decorated that nicely. I wish I had clothes that cool and a real sense of fashion. I wish I were prettier. I wish I could be proud of the things I create and the things I do.

I'm pathetic, right?

…

I finally re-dyed my hair today :)

And I missed out on so much of my life because I was living in a constant state of anxiety. And if it wasn't anxiety then it was depression. And if it wasn't depression then it was mania. And I literally can't remember being a child. I can't remember being a person. My whole life looks like this inescapable grey haze and I'm stuck in it. Buried in it. I don't want to fall asleep crying anymore. I don't want nightmare after nightmare. I want to feel safe and comfortable and happy and I am literally incapable of it. And that is so fucking terrifying.