Everything is so difficult

I don’t understand. I thought that I wouldn’t need to use this again but here I am. Again. At 11:50 am on a Saturday. Usually I just do these things at night. It’s getting harder to not want to cut myself. I started realizing recently that it’s just a coping mechanism just like porn, and they are interchangeable. Would I rather permanently damage my skin or permanently damage my brain? I think my skin is the better option. I never wanted to look good. I always thought that it was so unfair that just because of my appearance I was treated differently than others. It didn’t make sense to me one year ago. Now it makes sense. Physical attraction is associated with a higher social status, for absolutely no reason. That’s just the way it is. It wasn’t my fault I was born tall with curly hair and blue eyes. It’s just genetics. I don’t think genetics should contribute to your social status, but I guess it’s inevitable. I like how it seems like a lot of people want equality, but really, they just want more power for themselves or a group of people that they are a part of. It’s just politics. No one is honest.
I thought that life would be easy for me. I really did. But then, life happened. Pretty ironic, really, I did all of this to myself but I don’t know if I should even be responsible for my own actions. Legally, I’m not. My parents are. If I commit a crime, my parents go to jail, not me. I don’t want my parents to go to jail, they are decent people. We just don’t get along. I don’t really want to go to jail either. I’m not strong. Physically or mentally. I can’t really blame anyone except for myself honestly. If I start crying, I forget the reason I wanted to cry. If I start laughing, I can’t control myself, but I don’t know why I am laughing and mostly I just feel confused or scared rather than amused. But I laugh anyway, “what’s wrong with me”. “What happened to me”. All the questions that other people used to ask about me are getting into my own head now. Weird. I used to think that there was nothing wrong with me, that I was perfect and I should be worshipped simply for existing. Pretty stupid honestly. Now, well, everything is hard for me. It’s hard for me to study. It’s hard for me to sleep. It’s hard for me to exercise. It’s hard for me to eat. It’s hard for me to express my emotions. It’s hard for me to be honest both with myself and others because I don’t even know who or what I am. My parents say that I’m more of an animal than a person because I don’t have any dreams or goals. Unless you count wishing for death, I don’t. I’m not really planning on killing myself. A part of me wants to, another part of me doesn’t, and another part of me is indifferent. “Do whatever you want, as long as you’re not hurting anyone it doesn’t matter.” I like watching cooking or baking shows sometimes. It’s very relaxing. And also interesting. I have started to realize that even though a lot of people seem predictable, I am completely unpredictable because I don’t even know what I’m going to do next. Apart from, being in my bed most of the day. Apart from that, I don’t think anything I do has any real explanation for it except “cope”, or “crazy”. I started to think I was crazy yesterday because I started laughing out of nowhere and moving my tongue without really wanting to. I guess I don’t really want to do anything. I started pulling down the curtains to my window everry night because I’m scared of what I might see outside. It started two days ago. I was in my bed, and then I heard someone knocking at my front door. I didn’t open it, but I panicked and I thought that someone or something (they) had found me, and they want to do something to me. They don’t want me to die, they just want to torture me. And then they will laugh at me while they torture me. I see them in my dreams sometimes, I remember it very clearly when I wake up in the morning. Sometimes when I close my eyes at night. Their faces are pale and covered in some weird black liquid, their eyes are bloodshot, their hair is always black, the color of their eyes switch every few seconds. All they do is stare at me, scream, and laugh when I get scared. I don’t want to see them anymore, that’s why I turn off the lights and close the curtains every night. But when I close my eyes. Not when my eyes are open, only when I close them. I can see them clearly. There’s something wrong with me. There are other people living inside my head. I want them to get out of my head. This is my head, I want them to get out. They don’t scare me, but they control me, and everything they do goes against what I want. And when they do control me, they make fun of me too. Laugh at me. I laugh with them. I can’t choose whether I want to laugh or not. I can’t choose whether I want to cry or not. I can’t choose whether I get out of my bed or not. I can’t choose anything. That’s why it’s so hard. Because I don’t have any control over myself. Actually, yes, I can control some of my impulses, but most of the time I give in, and the impulses always linger for a really long time… I wanted to throw my phone into the wall and jump on it until it broke yesterday. I wanted to cut myself yesterday. I wanted to do a lot of things that I didn’t actually want to do. I have this recurring image in my head, where I carve the words “fuck you” into my forearm. It’s not directed towards anyone in particular, it’s just “FUCK YOU”. Why, why am I like this? I’m not supposed to be like this. I don’t get it. I have nightmares every night, where I either get raped or tortured, or it’s just me being with my fucking ex girlfriend and I feel like shit when I wake up either way. I don’t imagine my ex girlfriend raping or torturing me, if that’s unclear. I forgot what my ex girlfriend looks like today. I don’t know if that’s a good thing. She made me feel so fucking dependent on her, I hated that, that’s why I pushed her away. What’s the point of loving anyone when I can’t control my impulses like that? Can I even say that I loved her in the first place? Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t, I honestly don’t remember. Maybe I will some other time today and I will just break down and cry. I doubt it. I tried to cry this morning, because I didn’t like the people living in my head, “why do I have to live with these people inside my head”, lie down, one tear, don’t remember what happened. Not confused at all. I don’t understand stand anything. I’m so lazy. The most common thoughts that pop into my head are “why does it have to be like this”, “it’s such a pain in the ass…”. I didn’t choose to be lazy. I didn’t want to be lazy. But then, life happened. Half a year ago I was working my ass off every single day. One year and a half ago I was working my ass off every single day. One year ago, I was also lying in my bed like this. It’s always like this when winter ends… After summer ends I feel great, after winter ends I feel terrible, and it’s like that every single year. But it’s getting worse. So much worse. Every year, it gets worse. Next year will be worse than this year. The year after that year will be even worse. And it will be like that until I die, or get help from a proffesional, but my parents don’t seem to want me to be in a psych ward for some reason. She destroyed me. At first, I was interested in her, then I guess I fell in love with her? If love is obsessing over someone and wanting to know every single detail about them, thinking about them all the time, then yeah I was in love with her I guess, but I don’t get why I just instantly get obsessed with whoever I fall in love with. Should I just give in to the obsession? I don’t get it. What the fuck does love even mean. Is it supposed to be a postive feeling or a negative one? Supposedly, it’s “an experience rather than a feeling”, according to my religion teacher when I was 15 or 14. Man, what a pain in the ass. I can’t put a label on antthing without wandering what the fuck the label even means, and if I look up the dictionary definition and other types of information about it I get even more confused. Fuck love man. Who cares about love. I just wanted someone to cuddle with. I didn’t need to get in a fucking relationship and obsess over some girl for a whole month just to realize my flaws and what I actually wanted but fucking hell man. I should feel guilty for her, but I feel happy for myself, and I’m even laughing at how stupid I make myself sound. Maybe I am stupid lmao. Maybe I just don’t understand emotions at all. That seems to be the case. Whatever.