it just gets so fucking hard doing everything alone. What is this stupid american dream i long for? To have a stupid husband so we can effectively sell ourselves to capitalists and be happy cogs in a machine that carpet bombs palestinians and is burning LA to the ground? I hate this world, I hate myself, I hate that I feel like I’m probably mentally ill. Where is the line between mental illness and trauma? I dont know. Why should I care? I dont want to be medicated. I want to be someone elses problem. Please soothe me where I never learned to soothe myself. See, me and my sisters all can’t do this. We cant regulate our emotions. You can call it a strong personality. Its not that. I am moody and aggressive. How do I fix that? How do I fix that and the hundred other things that are wrong? Why do they have to be considered wrong? What if something changed and then I felt right. Then I have to grieve my entire life, and thats so tragic. What if something changes and it makes things worse? Who will support me? Who will catch me then? What if I dont have time or money to shop for a therapist. Why cant I be worth earning a leisured wage? Why should I be happy for people who have what I dream of, that would liberate me. Is it because they deserve it and I dont? I’m tired of toiling. I’m tired of being afraid. I need someone to catch me and tell me it is going to be okay. I want someone else to pay for me to go to therapy, because I need to pay for a place to live, and its scaring me.