This is one of my vent journals.
If you came here without explicit permission, I suggest you leave.

2/26/2026
I've been a problem since before my birth. I've probably made everyone who has ever known me worse. I should've been a miscarriage instead of this fucking mess.
Why can't I be useful like him, why do I always have to be everyone's last resort? Why does everyone avoid me like the plague? Why am I always messing up everything I do but no one tells me how to do it right? I hate this. I can barely get my own thoughts out of my head. Part of me wants me to heal and get better, part of me insults every single thing I do, makes me feel unworthy of writing this here. They say I'm too self centered, useless, and I have no right to complain. I can't tell what part of it is true. I can't decide whether to give in to those thoughts or ignore them. All of it feels real. But is this a matter of reality? Who's here, really?
So maybe I'm going insane. I can't even tell if we're seperate. I can't tell who I am. Who are we? Are we really seperate? Are we together? Is it a we? Who am I now? Who am I ever?
I can't understand myself. I don't know what I'm feeling. I don't feel worthy of food and yet I eat. I don't know how to talk right. I can't make a solid choice. What is this anymore? Can someone kill me to spare me the trouble? Or am I even worthy of death? Do I deserve such total peace in which I may be free of life? Free of the burden? If I were to die, why would that inflict sadness upon others? It's not like you even liked me before I died, so what is the meaning of such care you never had? I do not want to bring sorrow, I solely want peace within my mind, unburdened by the horrible thoughts and unfeeling, so overwhelming. I don't want to burden you with my death, as it will instill unsteady, I want you to be happy, for you feel stability, which I could never attain. I want you to live out your greatest life, uninflicted by death.
I wish to seek help, I wish to become greater, yet the world is so unaccepting. I wish to simply talk with one another, without fear that I will only make them worse with my troubles, without feeling that I am a problem which must be fixed, I just want to talk to someone before it's too late. I don't want to be afraid of being labeled as an attention-seeker, but I want to seek attention. Not pity, I want someone to listen to what I have to say, I want to feel truly understood so that maybe I could finally feel better. I don't want to push others down because of my troubles, or make them feel bad. Is it so horrible to wish to be connected, to simply converse with someone, to not have to work through these problems alone?
...Because it is so hard, to try and understand myself, when my own mind makes me feel horrible for doing so.