Sometimes, I'm afraid of my own thoughts.
If I had the power of god, I would screw up so bad.
Sometimes, I'm afraid of myself.
I'm afraid of my actions, of my words.
But mostly, I feel disappointed.
Disappointed in family, in myself. I feel so bad that if not for the fact that I live on the second floor I would have already been dead.
I feel disgusted with myself.
Why does she keep doing it?
Why does she keep yelling at me, insulting me?
Sometimes, I just want to end it all.
Sometimes, I'm afraid of myself.