I hate it when people think they know me. No one knows me, not even myself. I surprise myself sometimes, actually, I surprise myself a lot. I change my mind a million times a day. I’m indecisive, I get distracted easily, I’m overemotional, I’m stubborn. And that’s only barely starting to scratch the heaps of words that describe the complex, rash being that is me. I don’t like people. I hate conflict, it gives me anxiety. I talk a lot, mostly about nothing and everything; if you can sort out my thoughts and words, kudos to you. I hate being played, and I’m misunderstood a lot. I loathe it when people jump to conclusions or are angry at me and won’t tell me why. I’m depressed, but then again, who isn’t? I’m a good listener and I give good advice, but I seldom follow it. I’m having a hard time figuring out who to trust. I’m sick of being used instead of being loved. I have trust issues and I honestly don’t know who my friends are because I feel like no one cares. I have a hard time telling people things because I’m paranoid and afraid that they don’t care/will tell everyone. I hate talking about myself. I have a lot of things on my mind, but I rarely ever say anything. I’m so tired of keeping everything bottled up. I’m sensitive to peoples’ emotions and they affect me a lot. I want and try to fix everyone, even though it’s impossible. I neglect my needs, and I’m too harsh on myself. I’m my own worst critic. I beat myself up for trivial things, and I strive too hard for perfection. I’m stuck in this cacophonous, skewed, atrocious world with no defenses whatsoever. Honestly, I just want to curl up in a corner and cry most days. Everything’s becoming too much, and maybe it’s all my fault, but handling it like I am now is starting to break me and I can’t stand it anymore. Wouldn’t it be easier if I were just dead?