I don’t know why I didn’t seek mental help from a young age. I don’t know why I didn’t seek it out in 8th grade. I had mental breakdown after mental breakdown, and I didn’t tell anyone. And it just kept happening. And I just kept torturing myself. All for what? I feel like I ruined my whole fucking life. Instead of constantly trying to hide the fact that I was losing my mind, I could have gotten help. And spent my teenage years and early twenties becoming someone. Becoming someone I’m proud of today. Instead of who I really am. Often my mind feels just worn down, and ready to give up. I’m only 33, but I feel like I’ve been alive for a whole lifetime. I feel like I’ve lived an entire lifetime worth of pain, anger, frustration, guilt, anxiety, confusion, etc., etc.