On giving up

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I’m tired. Mostly from not getting enough sleep – if it’s not the dogs, it’s the sleep walking/talking roomie, or the other inhabitants of the house going about their business while I try to get an early night to compensate for my early rise. But it’s gone beyond that.

The general consensus is that I’m overreacting. I feel like I’m heading for a break down at a great speed. I’m miserable. I feel unloved, lonely, inadequate and trapped. It feels like I’m constantly being criticised and that only the negative things about me are being highlighted by the person I rely on the most for uplifting and encouraging me: my mom. Nothing I do seems to be good enough, and her comments last night – telling me to grow up and that the world does not revolve around me – only opened up years of festering resentment about never living up to expectations.

There is nothing I can do to change the situation; there is nowhere I can go. I have nothing – no money, no desire to be alive. I spend days in tears, unable to pull myself together; unable to contemplate a light at the end of the tunnel.

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