I'm so tired of crying.
I wish it would stop.
I don't know what to do anymore.
I'm tired of fighting for everything.
I'm tired of the people I love getting hurt.
Because of me.
I'm tired of always being self conscious,
And picked on.
I'm tired.

And no one seems to see or care because they are all so caught up with themselves and their own lives.
I don't blame them.
I'm not much to be worrying about,
But if just one bit of that worry from another person went towards me and how I felt and how I think about dying everyday,
Then maybe I wouldn't be so sad,
Lonely,
And tired.
And weak.

I'm tired of standing up for everyone but no one standing up for me when it really comes down to it.
People say they will.
But how many really would?
You never know.
Which is the hard part about everything.
You never know what's coming next,
Or what's being changed at the very blink of an eye and it frustrates me.
It frustrates me that I can't be prepared for every hard thing that comes my way.
But that's living right?
That's what life is about?
To be honest,
I've stopped caring what life is about.

I get anxiety attacks and everyone thinks I'm lying about it and I'm so afraid to let someone in because they won't be supportive or actually listen to me when I think I have the slightest bit of chance to tell them how I really feel.

People think I should just shut up.
They think that I should just go about my day until something drastic happens.
It's sad really that something drastic NEEDS to happen before anyone takes you and your problems seriously.
But by then it's too late.
And after it's all over they go back to not caring again.

Maybe one day I will say goodbye.
I'm always afraid of regretting it,
So that's how I know I need to stay for now.
But one day I might be pushed just a bit,
To the point where I no longer care if I'm happy or sad or feel nothing after.
Then I know that I am about to leave.
And I wonder how people will think I kept it all in so long.
Because I didn't.
It's just that no one would take the time to listen so instead I took the time to vent and never felt better afterwards.

What to do?
What to do.
What I want vs. what I need to do.
The problem is that I don't know what I want or what I need to do.
So I am lost.
And I'm hoping someone finds me soon, because if not,
I might not be here.

I'll try to find help.
I need help.
Before I am taken away from,

This.