I find it hard to love myself. What is there to love? I find myself trying to grab hold of those around me to keep me stable, to keep me afloat. I use marijuana to escape myself — but lately it’s been doing the opposite. I’ve come to realize how detrimental I am to myself. I know smoking will make me depressed and hate myself more than I already do but I do it anyways. I’m addicted to mentally harming myself. I don’t know how to stop and I don’t think I will any time soon. But I’m slowly breaking down. It’s getting harder for me to pull myself together to do anything. I seclude myself as much as possible and now social environments slightly terrify me and that just makes me hate myself some more. I’m scattered and I want to run away. I wish I had the strength and courage to leave. To just jump on a plane and leave it all behind and start anew. But life isn’t that simple or easy. And so I stay. Maybe one day this’ll all be over — maybe I’ll finally reach my limit and just end it all.