I admit it, I give up. I don't know what happened to me, but the burnout is affecting me. I can't do anything, I don't have a passion anymore. I don't think it's anything serious, or anything like that. I just, I give up. On life, on anything. But, not on her, never on her, she's my world, she's what's keeping me going. I'm waiting til a certain date. November 7th, '29. Feeling the imaginary pressure I put on myself is exhausting. The idea of having to prove myself to people, to my family. I want to write another paper letter and just let them find it, again. I had a therapist, but I gave up on that aswell. I think I just need to see a professional, I want to know what my problem is. Social anxiety is killing me, I can't do anything without feeling like an outcast. I want to fit in badly, yet can't. I'm afraid of being different, of being a burden. I hate crying, I hate crying cause I can't express my emotions like a real person. I can't say "I'm sad," it's embarrassing.