It's always been hard for me not to feel sorry for myself when it comes to mental health. I know it's no ones fault that I'm like this but sometimes it just doesn't seem fair. I get in my head and I think about how unfair it is that I'm so sensitive to things other people wouldn't care about. How unfair it is that I have this enormous capacity for love and no one loves me back (at least never in the ways I want them to.) How unfair it is that my entire life I've been known as the crazy girl, the slutty girl, the bitchy girl, the clingy girl, etc when there's a perfectly good reason and I just don't want to open up to strangers about my disorder.

I don't like knowing that it makes me so sad to think about other people getting to live easy lives. I used to think I had the capacity to be happy for people who were doing better than me. Now I see that that's not true, or at least not all the way. Sometimes I'm truly despondent about the fact that I got chosen to have a fucked up brain that I have to use to painfully navigate such a stressful world. 

I wouldn't wish this disorder on anyone. I can't even count the amount of nights i've lied in bed crying and begging whatever higher power is out there to make me normal. I truly hate living like this. I know people talk about the positives but I haven't found them yet. It's all just pain all the time.