Sorry, a vent again, no where else to vent.

...

I'm sick of this, hating myself, sick of the past sick of how it ruins my life, sick of being angry sick of who I am sick of being sick and tired.

I'm a bother, I know people think it, I ruin things, I sit there and make things awkward, I'm worthless and annoying when I speak. Don't speak, shouldn't speak, if you don't speak they can't punish you... as if...

I have to rant and vent to a therapist who is paid to care, because other people never give a ****, it feels so pathetic. It's pathetic to be so insecure and needy and need my friends to assure me.

Good things happen, bad things happen, I don't know how to feel. How can I be happy when everything has a way of reminding me of all the **** that was done.