I’m a threat, I should turn myself in

I buy these things. I don’t use them later. Because for some reason I’m this brand of spoiled, like, I buy myself things, I have them, I want them, I like them, I can’t use them, because I can’t, because it’s too hard to do so. It’s just too hard.

Am I faulted for things being too hard for me? I don’t know. It might be a gray area.

I need my brain cells back, though.

I need to figure out how to be sane.

I need my sanity back, yeah, that’s for sure.

Anger. It shouldn’t get this far. It just shouldn’t get this far. I’m not a criminal, I’m not in prison… but having a mental illness is definitely similar. I see that now.

And it scares me. That I could have an outburst. A violent outburst. I don’t want to. I don’t want to be strapped to a pole either.

Aside; Dad is just a vile person and I should fuck everything he says. He’s so gross. So just ignore him.

So anyway.

I don’t know why. So many people spy on me.

I need help. More than I get. And I don’t know where or how to get it.

I guess for now I am in fear, suffering.

I guess that is all for now.

And a risk to society, on top of that.

Good luck, everyone.

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