I used to wish I had a reason to feel so sad.
Maybe a death in the family or a traumatic injury, morbid as it sounds.
A reason to feel scared, and lost, and all at once a child begging for someone else to takeover for a while.
Crying in the bath is such a cliche but when you're underwater no one can ask what's wrong and be disappointed by the answer.
I don’t have a good enough reason to be sad, I’m only 23 and have an entire life to live but I feel like this is gonna be it, and every week is another long week and every day drags like it will never end.
I feel like I should talk to someone but I’m not sad enough, or I’m not rich enough, or I’m not desperate enough.
People say life finds a way and that it will all sort itself out, but right now in this bath it’s just me and my fears so life can wait a while.

I've been crying again but don't worry, I’ve been trying to understand myself and my sexuality since I was young, i came out as bi just to see if the label fit but it feels too controlling and the box gets a bit smaller each time I say the word, I’ve lied to friends about hook ups that never happened and have pretended to enjoy kinks for people I'll never meet in real life. I feel a disconnect to who I'm trying to be and I don't know if I'm scared of accepting myself or if I'm scared of someone getting too close for me to learn it hurts. How do I explain to my friends that I don't understand when they complain about not being with someone for a few weeks when it's been years and how do I know when I'm telling myself the truth and when I'm picking another label, I need someone to tell me what to do but there's no one to ask so I'll keep going until I understand.

I find it hard to describe the longing I feel when I think of what’s to come,
The feeling of space in my stomach, making room for future plans and goals.
Sometimes it’s exciting, the possibilities endless in their quest for satisfaction.
Sometimes it’s terrifying, the fear of wasting my ideas to a life of boredom and monotony.
There are so many things I want to do and so much time to do them, but what if I use the time unwisely and never get past writing a bucket list, what if my midnight dreams and sunrise hopes are only ever nice thoughts and the impractical mindset of the young?

I find it hard to describe the longing I feel when I think of what’s to come,
The feeling of space in my stomach, making room for future plans and goals.
Sometimes it’s exciting, the possibilities endless in their quest for satisfaction.
Sometimes it’s terrifying, the fear of wasting my ideas to a life of boredom and monotony.
There are so many things I want to do and so much time to do them, but what if I use the time unwisely and never get past writing a bucket list, what if my midnight dreams and sunrise hopes are only ever nice thoughts and the impractical mindset of the young?

How easy it is to fall into bad company

Misery is like getting into a hot bath after standing in the rain , the heat soothing bones and setting skin aflame

Loneliness, like a familiar face in a crowd, greeting you with an outstretched hand and a smile

The tiredness is a long car journey, the destination known but not unwelcome

When the morning comes, I will look back at myself and pity

I am painfully aware that under this roof I have the most privilege

I do not have diagnosed depression like my father

I do not have to keep a family afloat like my mother

So how selfish it is of me to complain

When you witness the breakdown of another, you learn to accept your own destruction just to keep the peace