My entire existence is pain, it is dreading every second to the next including all the ones past, over and over and over again.

I don’t recognize myself anymore, inside or out.

I am also wiser in the worst ways.

Each year looks less depressing than the current even though I’ve always wanted to die.

Somehow wanting to die a little less in the previous year makes it camouflage as happier times.

I get more withdrawn, more in debt.

More bills more pills, quite frankly I feel ill.

I have become nothing more than an hassle, an inconvenience to everyone who crosses my path.

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