I question why I even pretend to care about anyone when I wish they could sometimes suffer as much as I am. I think the whole idea of good things comes to those who wait is the pleading of a beggar who blames their failures on everyone but themselves and refuses to acknowledge their own flaws. Honestly, I'm enraged, angry, miserable, upset, anxious all at once every day all day. I've sought help, I've tried helping myself, but I still got my problems. I despise people who merely think that just because once they get a little anxious about something means they know anxiety, they know nothing, they're a pathetic existence that has had a good life. I never hurt anyone in my life, I've always been kind, well-mannered and caring of others so if you think that I may have deserved what I'm going through because of what I did, you're wrong. I am now less caring and don't care about others as much, but I hide that from others because once people find out you have a painful existence they never see you as anything but a broken thing. Please mention how you feel about having anxiety and if you hate people as well?
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