Here I am crying because I don't have a style, and my sense of style changes everyday, so even if I could afford it I'd never be content and need new stuff. And I want to bleach my hair and can't so I feel hideous.  And I hate being so materialistic. I tell myself it doesn't matter and I shouldn't care. And then I tell myself I'm faking it for attention.  Even tho they're real feelings I'm having and I'm alone in my room. And that researching pics of clothes and hair is only making me feel worse even though it's giving me guidance and ideas to work with what I have. And then I think "well thank god I'm stable bc then I'd be much worse" "I'm a minor with no money right now, what if I become a spender when I'm older because of this" and then you just spiral because your entire personality is made up of symptoms and you litteraly cannot make up your mind or emotions on anything and you just want to be fucking normal so stupid shit doesn't bother you.