I want to not feel like a waste of space, or like my rib cage is going to collapse around my lungs and I can’t breathe anymore. I don’t want to not sleep and keep myself miserable for lack of sleep. I don’t want to be any of what I used to. I don’t want to have the “I can only fuck up” mentality, it destroys me. But when everyone is telling you that no matter what you do, it’s wrong. If you do something right, it goes unnoticed. My mom thinks I’m a fuck up, my boss does too, and sometimes Kyle does. That one hurts bad. Because I don’t want to fuck up all the time, but my brain doesn’t stop. When I’m high I’m fine. When I’m sober, I’m ready to be high. I don’t numb myself, but I feel like I would if I had the chance. My demons wrestle and try to win the spot for most important, but I usually just start worrying about everything at once. I don’t want to cry. I have a good life. But sometimes my brain just decides that it has to fuck up everything. I don’t wanna fuck up everything. I don’t want my chest to feel stretched over all of my bones and start to crawl like it’s not mine I’m in, like my skin was on the wrong body. I want my hands to stop shaking and my tears to stop. I want to not feel a lump in my throat like all the anxieties are stuck and stretched on my esophagus. I want my words to not feel shaky like my hands or my heart and lungs to not feel like my ribs are closing to puncture them. I don’t want to be crying when the love of my life is sleeping beside me. I wish you knew how much I cried, not to make you feel bad, just so someone knows how sad I feel. I’m sorry I’m so negative and make everything about me. I learned those from my mom. I’m sorry I interrupt. I’m sorry that I give doses of reality when it’s inappropriate. I’m sorry I feel this way. I know my anxiety and depression affect yours a lot, as do yours with mine. I’m sorry you give me as much as you can and I still want more. I’m sorry I take up so much of your life. You tell me you’re afraid of losing me, and I’m afraid of losing you. Not to another person, but because I can’t get control over my head. I’m sorry you have to deal with this. You didn’t get a warning, but you’ve handled me much better than I ever have. And I thank you for giving me the life I have, I love it very much, but depression and anxiety don’t leave.