Xanax doesn’t work, drinking doesn’t work, sex doesn’t work, SH doesn’t work, starving myself doesn’t work. 

Breathe deeply, do yoga, go running, talk to a therapist. Hug it out with a friend. Pray. Listen to music. Watch TV. Read a book. Ummm yeah, that shit doesn’t fucking work. 

I don’t even know who the fuck I am. I look in the mirror and I legitimately can’t fathom that I am the brain controlling my eyes. 

It’s 7 am and I’m laying next to some fucking idiot I threw myself at for three months and built my entire schedule around, and who’s phone I went through to find out he has been sleeping with God knows how many other girls this entire time. 

I’m so paranoid and sick of this shit. I want someone to be obsessed with me and to fix me and cure me and it’ll never happen. I want to be happy and free and have fun. I think I’m selfish but I don’t even care anymore. I just want to have this burden lifted off my chest because it’s becoming a physical pain.