I want to scream and cry and break things. I want to lash out at anyone who talks to me. I want to control every aspect of my life, and if I can't then I become upset.
I feel so angry.
Nobody I've talked to understands. My mother listens to what I say then goes on to tell me stories about her own life. That's not what I need. My dad has enough to worry about. My doctor tells me about all the other people who have it much worse than I do. My friends don't want to be around me anymore, and I don't really want to be around them either.
I can't stop thinking about where my life would be if all this hadn't happened.
I can't stop thinking about what a waste of oxygen I am right now.
I don't feel excited or happy about any of my options regarding future plans.
I don't know what I want, besides for this to have all been a long, terrible dream.