I feel like an actual husk of who I used to be. But sometimes I think, was the person I was before even genuine? Im starting to realize or I guess coming to terms with the fact that no one will ever truly know me. I don’t even know me. Any passion I had before is almost completely gone. I just kind of exist for no reason other than just being here. If I wasn’t here things would be easier for everyone else. Up until now I have only done things so the people around me would be satisfied. And now I’m alone away from everyone and they are okay. Part of me is waiting for something bad to happen to me so I have an excuse to kill myself. So maybe that way when I die it can make sense to people.