I think there is something fundamentally wrong with me

I’m out of touch, sick of myself and not in the best state of mind.

But I love the way I hate myself. I like when things are a little blurry, wrong turns don’t have to be forbidden. But my bad habits have left me with an inability to love anything beyond the standard of desirability. I sometimes feel like I’m existing incorrectly, like if someone else was me, I would be better. I’ve always felt the darkness of my mind, the roses were never alive and if they were I only even felt the thorns. So when things went wrong, I made it a habit of becoming the manifestation of the domino effect. One bad grade led to a deep resentment for a teacher, which led to more anxiety and a smaller number on the scale. It felt good to destroy myself with the idea of academic validation. So when I see myself struggling, I try to romanticize it (@ the girl on tik tok who said being out of touch can be glamorous besties). But those girls on Pinterest, the depressed ones with dark circles, smudged eyeliner, mini skirts and oversized Tate Langdon sweaters. They listen to Lana, read Sylvia Plath, and despise their own existence. While I do these things, it sometimes feels inauthentic, almost like I’m trying to prove how empty I feel, but I have no reason to show off. My definition of a mental health struggle is laying on my bathroom floor and crying, but then slowly getting numb. I take walks at night, not for the aesthetic, but to finally be able to breathe. And I guess I’m tolerant of my physical body, but I would prefer to be that effortless model. And I hate that I’m so mentally disturbed, but I can’t even pull off the aesthetic.