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IT's getting harder and harder not to hate myself for all this nonsense.
Ive read half the internet in attempt to diagnose or revive myself from this insanity, ive reflected every moment if it was real or not. This plague of anxiety is unfortunatley not somatic enough to have killed me yet but the pyschological has nearly cost me my life now from the sheer exhaustion and traumatising stuff i have to go through.
I'm being told I tire people out. I barely talk the days when they say this.
My parents are tired but what they don't understand is I'd rather not be here at all. Literaly in times like this I feel dead.
I'm the maturest ive ever been now, so theres only so appropriate I can be to things like this now.
It's either be a loner, safe and miserable.
Constant self-diagnoses from people around me.
The difficult but permanent choice is sucide.
The help is not enough, I sound like I'm dramatising things but this is the nature of anxiety and how uneducated people are.
I get f***** over by girls who like me too.
I excersise constantly. Forever running away.
It's like I should be with it rather than fighting it, just give up and become a reclusive thing that should have never existed.
Yes I have issues, and adressing them has caused concern but no action.
I'm doing my best and it's not enough.
I've got a phychistrist January.
Inbetween time, I'm being ignored, and returning the same back. I don't like being dead like this.
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