I can’t even do simple tasks.

My dresser has a bunch of stuff piled on it I can barely get out of bed.

I don’t remember the last time I showered.

I stopped doing the things I love.

I can’t roleplay

Or write or read

I don’t want to talk to my sister.

I don’t want to talk to my parents.

I’m starting to feel alone again.

The way I was years ago.

When things got really bad.

It’s a fight to take my pills some days.

People ask if I’m okay I say “yeah, I’m fine.”

That’s a load of shit.

I’m not and I don’t know why.

I can’t ask for help and I can’t help myself.

Some days are better than others.

Most days I drag myself out of bed.

I barely eat

Why can’t I do simple things?

I used too. I don’t want to talk to my friends.

I don’t want them to know how bad it actually is.

The mask is breaking.

I wonder if anyone will notice.

Will they care?

Sometimes I wonder if there even was a mask to begin with.

I hate myself for things I can’t control.

I hate myself for not being the person I’m expected to be. I hate myself for not being the person I was before. I hate myself for not being able to lose the weight knowing I need too. Or being the perfect “granddaughter” for my grandma.

I feel like I’m letting everyone down. I tell them I’ll do something and then I can’t and I let it all pile up

Sometimes I feel like I can’t go on anymore. Someday I don’t want too. I wish I could go to sleep and not wake up.