I want to throw something. Or break something. I’m sitting here alone on one of the last nights of summer break while everyone is out having fun, and being normal. This isn’t life. I’m about to go into university and I don’t even know if I’ll be able to make it through the first couple of days without breaking down and having a panic attack or feeling sick. Why can’t I just get better? Why do I have to feel this way day after day, month after month, year after year? It has been 2 years 2 months and 29 days, and I’m still not better. All I can wonder is when will this end?
And then I realize how selfish I’m being. A close relative of mine is dying of cancer and here I am complaining about frequent nausea, what the hell is wrong with me?
When will life ever be fair?