I hate days like this.
Days when I wake up anxious and sick to my stomach.
Days when I don’t want to be around anyone–not even people I know and love, not ANYBODY. At all.
Days when I can’t focus because all I want to do is hide under the covers and cry.
I feel so much anger and so much anxiety bubbling under the surface that it makes me bitter and nasty to every person I see.
Even those I love the most are dancing on my last nerve and I don’t have much willpower.
If I snap at you today, I’m sorry.
If I’m distant, I can’t help it.
If I can’t seem to let you in, I’m sorry…I just can’t right now.
I’m mentally ill.
It really, REALLY sucks to say that. To write it.
I keep hoping if I admit to it out loud, it will go away.
I feel like a complete fuck-up.
I feel as though I am a constant disappointment to those who know and love me.
Like a burden.
Perhaps I am only a disappointment and a burden to myself.
I am so tired of this. It feels as though it never gets better.