I don't know. At least it won't feel like I want things I can't have.
I can't get over the P stuff. I feel broken. I was right, I'm nothing, and never meant anything. P never looked forward to seeing me. No one looks forward to seeing me. I'm a chore.
I can't relax. I haven't been able to relax in a long time. I feel anxious and unsafe and on edge all the time. Can't focus long enough on things that don't occupy all my attention.