I feel like smoking a cigarette. I feel like dipping my head in cold water and screaming. I feel like drinking. 

Some much self reflection and anxiety flooding over me at the same time. 

I feel like I can't remember who I am half of the time. 

I get some caught up in the thought, in a day dream, when i come down and look around and see what's in front of me, I can't tell which part of me is truly me. The ideas I have of myself throughout the day, the self-assurance I've built up, the qualities and understanding I've engraved and cemented in pillars and built to support me, come crumbling down the second I look in the mirror. The scraps of it as light as ash, and float away before I can look and remember. ‘I don't know who I am’ is the only thought that survives these cataclysms. 

When I sit with my family, the people that should truly know me, I only feel uncomfortable. When I look into their eyes, the image of me is broadcasted so clearly. I'm a dependent freak. They probably think I'm on the spectrum. I'm a fat mouth breather who is obsessed with animals like a child. I am immature and play video games because I'm lazy trash. I can't grow up to them. I can't evolve. This towers over my internal struggle and puts such a dark cloud over me I can barely see. I sometimes wonder if this is all in my head. I try to see the value, the worth, and it isn't there. I try to speak and it all comes back as gibberish. Nonsensical self centered lunacy. Narcissism. The moment I start to see a goal, to start and see myself as I should be, all these thoughts hit me hard and I land on my ass. Sometimes it takes months to start gaining momentum again. I guess this is what depression is. The emptiness, the worthlessness. That idea only makes me feel more like shit. The thought “you're just using this as a reason to sit on your ass and do nothing” forces itself into my thoughts and I just feel defeated. I just feel like crying. All these thoughts go in circles, and I've wasted years just trying to cope with it. I have no control over myself. No identity. I love too much to want to give this all up, but the urge to end it is an intrusive and uninvited thought that doesn't want to go away. It's a centerpiece in my brain, every time I've busied myself with other parts, I'll walk through and see it in my peripheral, and as much as I try to ignore it, it's there and it's center. 