I’m sitting at sbux nearly having a full out panic attack. I feel like I’m at the lowest of lows and I’m so incredibly depressed. I found out we’re having a spaghetti dinner tonight and my grandparents are coming over, and that just threw me over the edge. I can’t do it, but if I admit that, the shame and guilt of disappointing everyone is overwhelming. I feel like I’m going to be swallowed up by tears threatening to escape these glassy eyes of mine. I don’t want to be here! I hate this sad place filled with despair. I hate feeling defeated. I hate feeling I’m about to lose everything.
I’m feeling too much all at once. Too much. All I want to do is run away but I can’t. I’m chained to this ship that’s being torn apart by stormy seas. It’s sinking and I’m going with it. And it’s not romantic at all. There’s no beauty in this demise. Only regret, despair, and bracing of the inevitable.