People drain me. The sun stresses me out. I can't relate to positivity, and when I try to I feel like I'm lying to myself, trying to repeat these affirmations that life is beautiful and I'm worth it, but mine isn't and I'm not. I'm confused. I'm exhausted. I'm guilty. I'm miserable. I smile, laugh and go out of my way to try and convince people that I feel normal and fine and that I belong. But I don't. Not that anyone really cares. I've become so good at hiding it that people who have known me for years have simply accepted that my withdrawal from the world is just "the way I am" now, not because I hate myself and want this miserable life to be over with. I wish I wasn't so insistent on lying and that someone, just one person could sit me down and tell me they know I'm not okay. Instead I live my life never daring to remove my mask. It feels like a fake game that I'm always losing but constantly being forced to play, and I wish I could find the exit.