I feel like I have so much to write about, but nothing to write about at the same time. This week was crazy. I stayed at school late every day last week, and I’m exhausted. I feel like I can’t function properly. I can’t even focus on this, and it usually takes me 15 minutes to write one of these, and I can’t even type a sentence without tons of typos.

I’ve just been so overwhelmed. Like, Wednesday I called my dad crying because it was all just too much. He brought me pizza rolls and a Reese’s to school, to cheer me up. Which is what my parents tend to do when I’m upset, bring me food, which is also why I was such a chubby child. But, I digress. It’s crazy, how something that is so insignificant to me, can effect me so much. I get anxiety over the smallest things, I hate that. I wish I could control it.

I didn’t fall asleep until past two in the morning last night, because I was worrying about what dream I would have when I fell asleep. How stupid is that? I hate myself for being that way. When did I become so weak and pathetic? I can’t even explain how upsetting and time consuming my anxiety is. I’m taking five pills a day and next week, when I go back to my psychiatrist, I’m going to ask to be put on something that will help me sleep. I don’t want to be dependent on the pills, but I need sleep. I need the anxiety to go away. I can’t keep going on like this, I need help. I need to be saved, or I don’t think I can do it anymore.