That's the thing. IDK. It all sounds so stupid and so attention-seeking. I have a nice job opportunity, I go to a prestigious school, I have a loving family, and friends that even though I shut them down from time to time they are still there whenever I need them. I have a good psychiatrist, and a little guinea pig that I love more than anything in the world. And even though I have a chronic illness it is relatively easy to live with it. So I don't know, I don't know why I just can't be happy and enjoy my life. I'm supposed to do it, I have everything I need to do it but I don't know how to. And I believe that that makes me the worst person ever, doesn't it? I could solve everything, I have all the support I could ask for and a lot of opportunities that many people don't. But I can't, I don't know what's wrong with me, the pills aren't working, the treatment for me is pointless, and I cry myself to sleep every single night begging whatever entity that listens to kill me, to not let me waste another day. Because that's what I am a waste, I waste of time and energy for my loved ones, a waste of money for my parents and a waste of resources that could go to someone else who could be better. I'm broken, and I don't know how to fix myself.