I deleted my last post I wrote, because I thought it was stupid. And I didn't want to sound like someone who felt sorry for themselves. I didn't want to put something on my blog that I couldn't even really say to the people closest to me. The blog post was stupid anyways because I tried to make it sound like some weird philosophical crap to somehow justify things. Talking to the people closest to me helped me realize that it's not something I need to justify. Three months ago, someone told me for the first time that I probably needed help. Two months ago, someone said I wasn't normal and it wasn't my fault. A month ago, a doctor told me I had anxiety and depression and they couldn't help me until next semester. And just like the movies, they said writing things would probably help.

Sometimes I sit in my room. In what I call my free time, even though the my to-do list is definitely not empty. Mostly I watch Netflix or YouTube. But the moments where I just let myself think, I think about how few people I need in my life. How, most of the people I call friends will care nothing about what I did during Holiday break unless everyone else knows and they don't.

Sometimes I sit in my room. When I know I have to be somewhere and think about all the gazes I'd have to meet, and smiles I'd have to make to be nice and socially acceptable. I think about doing what I sometimes wish I could do, and walk around like they don't exist. Because then I wouldn't care.

Sometimes I sit in my room.When I know I have to do something and think about how much I wish I didn't care what people think. I wish I didn't care if they thought I was selfish, or impolite, or angry. I wish I didn't care if they thought I was nice, or smart, or pretty. I wish I didn't. I hate caring.

Sometimes I sit in my room. When I know I need to leave and think about the things I know I could do wrong. I know I'll forget something. I know I'll slip up. I know I'll have nothing to talk about. I know things will go wrong because they went wrong before. And every time I think I'm doing something right, i always end up doing something wrong.

Sometimes I sit in my room. When everything seems to be fine and somehow, from somewhere a thought creeps into my mind that something's wrong. Something is there or something is going to jump out at me. Someone is hurt or someone will hurt me. I know that if I move from where I'm sitting, bad things will probably happen at some moment.

Sometimes I sit in my room. When I'm trying to fall asleep and I think about all the things that went wrong today, yesterday, years ago. I think about the things that will go wrong tomorrow, and the days after. I think about the time it all stops mattering.