I'm the one to blame

Sometimes I think I'm messed up because of them. You know, my dad, my best friend when I was little, a couple more toxic friends, the expectations my mom had (has) on me. I was a snail living on a volcano. But maybe it was all me, I was (am) too weak for all those things. I didn't know (I don't know) how to manage emotions. So I grew up trying to be what people wanted me to be, maybe that's why I found it so hard to know me sometimes. Maybe that's why I can't be loyal to myself. I grew up afraid of consequences, afraid of making someone angry or disappointed. I still am. "Oh, yeah, she's clever, but the world will eat her", they were talking about me. Now I don't feel clever at all. I think I screwed up all parts of my brain trying not to think about how bad I feel every damn day. I know it can get worse, but do I care? I don't think I do. And there's nothing that makes me sad, not specifically, but nothing is keeping me from sadness, from the black hole my mind has become, bigger and bigger every year. Sometimes I don't even have hope for myself, I've accepted that I will live like this for the rest of my life. The bright side: It could get better, then it'll be a surprise. In the meantime, I think being optimistic about this is just gonna make me feel worse. Like with all the other things.

I better shut up now.