one of the reasons i don’t write on this thing to often is that my mood never stays stable long enough for me to get something coherent down. about fifteen minutes ago i was stressed but in a good mood. now i wish i could literally EXPLODE, burning, maiming and killing everyone in a fifteen mile radius. where did all this venom come from???
actually, you know what? i know where if came from. my family. my friends. my house, my mess. my school, my future. I CAN’T FUCKING TAKE THIS ANY MORE.
how many months am i going to keep feeling like this? how many more YEARS am i going to be overwhelmed and playing catch up? i am going to get old, and when i do i’ll look back at all this stress and sickness, and the words “story of my life…” will inevitably spring to mind. i am bright and funny and i try REALLY hard to be nice BECAUSE I FUCKING CARE about people. this is INSANE!!!
this is the story of my life…
edit
the lesser of two evils:
is it better to worry about the people around you, in an effort to help them when they need it (even if helping is just empathising once in a while); or to get cold and closed off to save yourself?