I dream of feeling okay for once. I don’t know when it will be enough. Don’t get me wrong, August was a rocky month but I wouldn’t say it’s awful. But I kinda feel like I have no one to talk to about this. My anxiety has never been this bad. It’s eating me whole. I caress my own hair to soothe myself. I realize it doesn’t even work. It’s so embarrassing when I don’t even remember what I say or do, and I pretend to remember everything. It’s truly embarrassing. I am embarrassed to talk about how I feel. I’m not exactly refusing help but whenever I try to make someone understand how bad things really are, they kinda laugh at me.

How do I live like this? I feel like my only purpose is ██ █████████. And I feel like I embarrass ███ █████████. I really feel like there are moments where he wishes I was someone else. Maybe I’m just torturing myself for no reason. I can’t even write this down in my physical diary. It hurts even more when I do.

I gotta press the pen down, I have to turn the page. I can’t erase the words. Before I sleep, I think about the things he said to me █████ ██ ███ █████ ██ ██. He wasn’t even wrong; it’s stupid for me to want an apology.

I feel like a guitar that just refuses to get tuned. No matter how many times you try to tune it, it goes back to how it was. When you try to make do with how untuned and broken it sounds, you just can’t do it. You can’t stand the way it sounds.