why do i feel like this. why can’t i just feel good. why can’t i just be happy with my life. why can’t i just accept who i am or work to change what i don’t like instead of bitching about it. why do i have to be so scared all the time. why do i keep sabotaging myself. why can’t i sleep.it’s six in the morning, i should be asleep. why did i give this movie away that i identify with so much. stupid. why can’t all the (antidepressant and antianxiety) drugs i’m on make it all better. why can’t i opt out.i don’t want a ticket. i don’t want to take the ride. i’m too scared. i’m too dysfunctional. but i can’t tell anyone. they wouldn’t understand.only one person in the world gets it. my best friend. at least i have that. but she’s not here now. nobody’s perfect. how many other people in the world feel like me i wonder. how many are scared to live and scared to die. i have 34 followers. i wonder if any of them will read this. i wonder if any of them will identify. i wonder if any of them will respond. i wonder why i’m opening up to tumblr.