I usually feel super awkward talking about my feelings on here, but now I think I’m confident enough to speak my truth: I’m not doing well.
I was always going to be weird: you can’t just make a socially awkward only-child introvert and shelter the fuck out of them, and not get a really fucked up psuedo-adult as a result. The more I learn about the world, the less I want to be a part of it.
I’m going to die. It’s inevitable. The fucked up part is that I know how I’m going to die. I had a dream long ago where I slowly alienated the people who cared about me, until I drank myself to death. I’m terrified that it might be an accurate depiction.
I hope I’m wrong. I hope that I get to enjoy my life, but I don’t think that will be the case. I just want to be happy when I go out.