I miss the girl I used to be. The one who could be happy by herself. Who was happy with her achievements and with her mistakes. Who could find joy in the smallest things such as a grocery store run or walking back home. The one who felt like she could do anything once she put her mind to it. Now I’m only happy when I am around certain people. I go home because I am tired, not because I find comfort in it. Groceries are a necessity, achievements feel mediocre and she hates herself with each passing day. I look at my old photos and I miss the girl I used to be.














