No I’m not okay. But that doesn’t matter. Over the past year, I’ve learned one thing. The only way to get through life, is by pretending I am. Go through the motions. Keep. Going. Wake up, get ready, go to work, clean some things. Do what im told, when I’m told. Watch my brother do everything perfectly. Everything right. Watch him become the person we all knew he would be. Im so so proud of him. Next to him, I’m nothing. I’m the Guinea pig child. I’m not trying to make myself into a victim. I’m not a victim. I’m alone. I’m so alone it feels like a black hole inside the pit of my stomach. Every step I take is walking through quicksand. Every single breath I take is breathing in glass. & Everything is my fault.

I destroyed my family over the course of 2 weeks. Or at least my own relationships with them. They love me. They’re embarrassed of me though.

The only thing I ive ever wanted to do is live comfortably. Not rich, not glorious, just happy, small country living. I messed up. Like always. I’m a failure. No one has ever expected much from me. & the small expectations of me, I always mess up in some way. I thought I was okay. I’m not though. I’m not at all. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know where it all just turned sideways. I have nothing at all going for me, and I’m terrified of my future. I’m terrified of seeing the looks of resentment & unsurprising disappointment.

Hearing the way I’m talked about, it takes a little piece of me every time. When you think with your heart & not your head, you’re just too different. These days it just isn’t allowed. But I can’t help it. I feel everything so deeply it’s suffocating. I’m tired of feeling. Of talking. Of failing. Of breathing. I’m fighting so hard every single day. I’m absolutely not okay. But I’ll fake a smile, crack some jokes, and act like I am. Because that’s the only thing I can do. But I’m just so tired. And it’s so hard not to give up.