the need for success has been conditioned into me, but i don’t think i can pull that off. so the terror of “what happens then” has been chasing me around for months, preventing any significant progress being made. i feel like failure is inevitable, and i just want to stop, yet everyone tells me to keep pushing onward. im not sure if that is what i even want anymore.
i hope there is a future where the stress of being alive doesn’t feel like it’s forcing the air from my lungs. the amount of times where i don’t like being me has kept increasing, and it’s nothing but sorrow. i hope tomorrow is kinder to me.