Pathetic on a Stick.
Nothing is worth it anymore. People aren't what they seem, but you care about them none the less. Things fall apart. The things that made me happy just yesterday hold only deep sadness now. I'm fraying at the seams. So many thoughts I'm barely coherent. I never finish things. Ever. I can't finish any fic that I try to write. I never finish TV series no matter how much I like them. I barely finish books anymore. I feel like there's no reason for anything. But the worst part is how sad I feel. Like why are the things that used to be so great suddenly making me sad? But I know why. And it just makes me feel all the worse. I'm so weak, in the mind, in the heart, I don't even know what to do with myself. I wish I could be brave enough to ask my mom if I could see a therapist. I want to find out what's wrong with me, because I know something is. But I'm too scared. And even if she was understanding, would her insurance even cover it anymore? We don't have the money if it doesn't. School is listless and the class I thought I would enjoy is now a chore, even though I'm willing myself to enjoy it with all my might. I try to be happy. I really really try. I want to be happy so I can stop shoving all my problems on people. I want to say "lol" and really mean it. I want to act happy and not be faking. My thoughts are scattered. I can hardly even hold ideas for minutes. This entry is all over the place. Make of it what you will.