I can’t look at anything that I’ve written because it makes me want to stab my eyes out. What is the point of even doing anything! Why create! I did write again last night and I wish I hadn’t and I wish I could stop—
I can’t look at anything that I’ve written because it makes me want to stab my eyes out. What is the point of even doing anything! Why create! I did write again last night and I wish I hadn’t and I wish I could stop—