I don’t know

I honestly believe I live a privileged life. My parents have wealthy paying jobs, and I am able to go to a very nice high school. Nothing awful besides the deaths of my loved ones, and regular crappy teenage drama has happened in my life. I’m lucky. I’ve never been abused or assaulted, but I’m still sad. I was briefly bullied in middle school, but who hasn’t been in their own way? No matter how many incredible things happen in my life, I somehow fall back into a dark place. I have periods where I am so happy, and then I have times where I can’t help but want to die. I continue to find flaws in myself, and one of the only things keeping me alive is knowing that it will affect my family to leave the world. I don’t know what to do because I went to therapy, and I left it because he continued to make me uncomfortable, and I felt worse every time I had to go to the session. I respect everything people say to me, and I appreciate the advice, but it’s more than just taking advice. I can’t choose if I’m happy or not. I want to be, but I’m not. I’m not writing this to get pity or to take advice, because I don’t know if it would work. I would still appreciate advice though. I’m really here to explain myself. I’m here to write, because writing is the only thing that makes me feel slightly sane. Everyone thinks I’m mentally insane except my family. They don’t interfere, and sometimes it is nice to be able to have awful anxiety and panic attacks alone. Sometimes it’s not when they see I’m not eating out of not being able to since I feel the need to vomit if I eat when depressed. It’s also not when they see my old scars from burning myself, and they don’t care. It’s nice to be alone, and it’s nice to be ignored when I don’t want pity or to be noticed. Sometimes I would like to be loved or cared about. I’ve never attempted suicide, and I don’t think I will. I always think about how easy it could be though. I feel ugly, and I feel useless. You may think I’m just a normal hormonal teenager, but I have my reasons. Everyone does. I wish people understood that problems are problems no matter how strong or weak they are. No matter what you are going through, you are relevant. I may be a hypocrite for saying everyone is relevant when I feel completely irrelevant. That’s my problem. I always want people to understand how important they are, but no one every tries to make me feel like I am apart of society. I feel like I’m not, because no one cares about me. Maybe they do, but no one has ever gone out of his/her way to make me feel somewhat special. I’m not. I’m just a waste. I don’t care how depressed and anxious I continue to be, because I will never stop trying to make others feel better about themselves. People deserved to be loved. Maybe I’m not people then, because I don’t deserve anything.