I just hate myself. I work a decent job that I can live on. I have some family and a friend or two that I know care about me. That is the only thing that keeps me going, but only because I know the pain it would cause if I did anything.

I should be ok.

I think people think I’m ok.

It’s tough to explain the weight you feel acting like you’re ok when you’re not. The constant burden. Like you have a pile of weights on your chest at all times. 

I just don’t know. I just wish everyday wasn’t so hard. I don’t know