oh. number one hundred and one.

i make myself nauseous. i think mean thoughts about people i like. i drink alone. i scorn people who drink. i'd use drugs if i knew how. i resent my dad and pity my mom. i don't like to be touched. my friends think i'm funny, but i'm actually really depressed. next year i'm going to harvard. i don't know what i'm going to do with my life.

i wish i had asked for help before i got to my current state of self-loathing.

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