Four days

I always feel like I get told I don't try hard enough to fix this part of me. Well I'm trying, and it got me four days. I just feel like I can't really say what I need to, or what I mean. If I could, I wouldn't be here counting days. I would just say it all, and have no secrets.

Four days has won me shaky legs. A mind that wanders too much. A caffeine and gum addiction. Is this any better? I check my cellphone every two seconds for people who don't exist to text me. I can barely write this without the twitching in my shoulders making me stop.

See I have things to do, and I can't do them. Whoever said before I was interfering with my the normal functioning of my life, doesn't see me know. Letters don't make sense when I try to read them.

I don't think I can make it another day. I really can't. An hour like this and you would do the same thing. It's not as bad a thing as other people's things. I really believe that.