New year, new me?

It’s officially 2015.. I cannot believe it! I’ve survived another year, it seems.. I’m (mostly) intact.. I am hoping that one of these days I’ll finally be able to stop living a life dictated by anxiety.. As I’m becoming more and more self-aware, I recognize my struggles and their origins.. I battle everyday with such intense emotions and feelings that I am utterly gutted by the slightest little thing.. Sometimes, not nearly as often though, I am elated and delighted by such little things that it doesn’t make much sense.. I still bottle the majority of my emotions; I’ve not found anyone that understands me very well and that is disheartening.. I didn’t realize until recently that there’s so much of myself that I can’t share with people.. I thought I had connections with people, that I could share things with people at any moment if I needed them.. But I still keep things to myself because of not wanting to be any sort of burden to anyone.. I’m not the only person in their lives and they have other people that need (and deserve) their attention.. I can’t be selfish like that.. I sometimes wish I lived away from everyone, thinking that somehow I’ll be less intrusive and less of a disturbance to my family.. I feel a great burden (self-imposed perhaps) that I carry with me everyday; every moment I struggle to force thoughts of negativity out of my head.. I don’t often succeed.. I’m told that I need to control my thoughts and make myself think good things about myself.. It seems an impossible task most days and the very thought of having to constantly fight away feelings of self hatred makes me exhausted.. I can’t hardly function, I can’t even call this living – I’m existing.. I wish, so much, that I could do better … for myself, for my family … but I find myself failing at every turn.. I am tormented by “demons” of self-doubt and confusion, sheer exhaustion at attempting to live, and by the feeling that I’ll never be more than another concern or another stressor.. I don’t know what to do.. I’m drowning.. I reach out to mental health professionals, but they’re less concerned with quality and more concerned with quantity.. They’re Less observant than necessary and seem to all but ignore the signs that I’m slipping.. I am frightened that it’s happening.. I don’t want to go back there, it’s not pretty.. But I feel hopeless….

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