Anxiety

Sorry, more vent-posting.

My mind is lying to me. Constantly. Nonstop. Didn't get enough rest? That's a weakness. That lets the enemy in. The enemy is me.

You're wrong. You're a failure. You're stupid. You always mess up.

Nobody really likes you. Everyone you love will leave you. They're all just putting up with you. They feel pity for you and nothing more. You are pathetic and needy and you will push them all away. You can't trust anybody. You can't even trust yourself

You mess everything up. You do everything wrong. You are a disappointment to yourself, your family, your friends, your God. You have failed so utterly that there is no hope for you.

Don't post this

They'll see you

They'll hate you

You're so immature. Why do you even bother? Why do you even write? Or do anything? You aren't good at anything. You don't know anything. Stupid, stupid, failure. 

Just disappear. Just leave. They don't want you around. They'd be better off without you. Just leave

Drive off the road

Run away

Go to bed and don't wake up

Never leave the house again

Leave and don't ever come back

Don't talk to them

Don't ask for help

You don't want to be needy. They already see you as clingy, as pathetic. You are so selfish. Why would they help you? They have more important things to worry about. You don't matter that much to them. You don't matter at all. Don't ask for help. They'll just tell you to suck it up and get over it. You're fine. Tell them you're fine. Everyone that asks. You can't trust them. You don't want to push them further away than they already are. 

You are nothing. Become nothing. 

You are only darkness. 

I know none of this is true. I know it, intellectually, but my heart is at war with my mind, trying to convince me of all of this. I know I just need to wait it out, that it will pass. But it's so tiring. It's exhausting. I hate going to bed at night. I hate those quiet moments, when there's nothing to distract me. This is every day. This is all day, and everything is a distraction. But at night, before going to sleep, I face them head on and I just want to run and hide. I'm tired. So tired. I've been fighting for so long. Fighting to be seen, fighting to understand why I feel this way, fighting to believe not only in myself, but in my family and my friends. I fight to believe that it's okay to not be perfect every second. Some days, I believe it. Others, not so much. Sometimes I hit both extremes in the span of only a few hours, like tonight. Maybe that means I don't really believe it.

It's hard not to believe your own mind. It has a way of being very convincing. Especially when telling me not to ask for help.

I won't give up the fight. But it is so exhausting. And so lonely. And some days, I am afraid that I won't win.