Too late
I was eerily correct this summer when I thought that getting my fucked-up-ness figured out would be a good idea. Why the fuck did I neglect to do this? Do I really have to be myself for my entire life? I am starting to think that the only option that I haven't exhausted is medication. Good luck getting my mom to put me on that. And good luck paying for it. I would do anything to feel less like myself. My head hurts just thinking about it because I feel so desperate. I can't think straight.