I can't get over this belief that I'm not really sick- I'm just making everything up. That I make myself feel bad, that I'm not trying hard enough to be better even though I could if I wanted to, that I want to be fucked up so I'm making myself fucked up.

Why are *my* emotions so paralyzing? Everyone else can make it through the day without feeling like they're literally going to die if their boyfriend "rejects them" (well he didnt text me for 5 hours so obviously he hates me amiright?) or obsessing for 3 days straight because their boss criticises them. Why do I want to claw my skin off, sob in the bathroom, and simultaneously smoke a cigarette, eat a chocolate cake, and snort an oxy? Why can't I behave like a normal person when I'm upset, like vent to a friend for 15 minutes then conclude "ya know, you can't control other people, I know I'm the best I can be and that's all that matters" then go back to my work still able to laugh at cat pictures and focus on Microsoft Excel spreadsheets. Why can't I just... deal?

I can't believe this is real, that I have this disorder. I feel guilty like I should know how to control myself better, put on a happy face, have a sense of self, have a goal in life and the motivation and consistency to stick with it. 

It sounds so easy, everyone else is doing it. Why can't I? 