I'm trying so hard to be okay. I mean I’m fine but, at the same time, I’m not. I’ve never desired to leave this place as much as I have for the past few weeks. It’s borderline psychotic. I used to dread leaving once I got comfortable but, with all the things I have gone through here, I just want to pack up and go. Leave everything that made me into the train wreck that I am now and find new reasons to be optimistic. It doesn’t take much for me to find joy in the simplest things. What takes effort is to be truly happy when I’ve lost all sorts of justification. I used to think I handled life pretty well but, when the walls of my world started crashing down on me, I suffocated. Then, I recognized my first mistake. What I thought to be comfort was actually the first sign of reliance. I sacrificed my independence for a sense of belonging and, the more I relied on people, the more I expected them to be there. Never would I have thought that they’d be the reason for me to feel like I don’t belong. Like I shouldn’t be here. I just want to leave. Go to a place where I don’t know anybody and nobody knows me. Someday, I’m going to do just that. I’m going to go and start a new life somewhere. Anywhere but here.