I don't, though. I fight against the tide for as long as I can, until everything becomes too much and I can't focus on anything. Then I start to hate myself for being such a failure. Recently, for not doing everything I'd hoped to by now, for not replying to the letters I received this week, for not looking how I'd hoped I would in the mirror by now. And those feelings consume my every conscious thought. I can't enjoy anything I do, because I feel guilty for not having done something else, guilty for enjoying myself when I should be achieving something else. I can't take outfit photos, because I end up in tears of frustration and hatred at how I
I can't explain these feelings very well, but even if I could, I wouldn't try to burden anyone else with them. I guess that's why it's here. It's nobody's issue but my own, and I don't want to trouble my friends with things like this. They'll come up with some well-meaning "pull yourself together" response, and I will feel like even more of a failure when I can't do that at the snap of a finger. I don't know what the answer is, but I hope I'll find it. This never lasts forever.
This isn't supposed to be self-pity, and I'm not in any way looking for sympathy or comments. This just is me. I'm hoping not for very long.