i think too much these days. i think so much that it stops me from speaking my mind. i'm not perfect and i know that, so when somebody does something that pisses me off, i think i'm not allowed to say anything because i'm not allowed to disagree with anyone's opinions about me. i've already seen the flaws in every defining bit of my being. i don’t need the reminders. why should i tell anyone anything about how they make me feel when all it's ever done for me is convince them to leave?

i can't talk about how my ex-girlfriend keeps breaking my trust, because they already told me she would. i can't talk about how my ex-best-friend has been treating me like i haven't existed every day for 20 months, because they had to hear about how much i cared about him every day of the 17 months before that. i can't talk about how i don't think i deserve to eat, because they tell me i don't have a choice. dirty room? clean it. school's hard? switch programs. nobody gets it. i can't even explain the thing there is to get anymore. nobody knows how to stop me from torturing myself, so i keep doing it.

my brain is too cloudy to say anything that truly and accurately encompasses my misery these past two months. it's like being a teenager again but with less hope. at least back then i didn't know the person i'd become in 2023. back then i had 5 less years of heartache hooked into my skin. i'm exactly the same as i used to be, except everything's worse now. life's come undone. i've left loose ends to unravel all around me, wrapping themselves tighter and tighter around my neck so that i might fall unconscious, eventually. every day i hold myself back a little bit more. every day i choke on gasping breath.