Nervous breakdown.
Sick of everything. I just want a place of my own. I just want to be able, just once, to have people over. I spent my whole childhood embarassed that we lived with my grandmother. I can't remember having one friend come over all through high school. Still living with mom and dad and they never go anywhere. I'm 24 years old, but they still make me feel thirteen. I've been conditioned since childhood to be quiet in the house and I'm here so much it's a relief to go ANYWHERE. Between paying half their (ridiculous) rent and my car and my cell phone (which i FUCKING LOST), I can't even seem to put money towards my wedding, much less a vacation or other things I desperately want. I STILL DON'T HAVE A GODDAMN BASS. Why am I such a weak-willed pussy who never even tries for what he wants? It's a beautiful Friday and I want to die. What the hell is wrong with me?
I can't even write a cohesive paragraph.
I WANT TO GET OUT.