rant about everything

I feel this intense unease and crippling anxiety the second I'm somewhere other than my house and this is consistent this has been my life forever. I feel so sick I start looking around the room trying to figure out what I could throw up in if that were to happen and I don't think anything will fix it. Maybe drugs, I'm not sure what type maybe psychiatric drugs maybe illegal drugs to me they're no different as long as they help but I don't wanna lose my mind to chemicals I don't wanna lose myself. How am I supposed to become an adult, how am I supposed to live in the world when even a room is too overwhelming. I think instead of the die young fantasy I had I'm gonna live young you know keep going until my late twenties and hopefully make lots of money so then I can just shut myself in my house and never leave until I die, thank god for ASDA delivery, the world is too much for me. I've been archiving everything, every journal I fill has dates and times on the cover and inside, I write everything down because I don't want a single thought to be left behind, thrown into the abyss of forgotten memories. So many days that have happened do not exist, because everyone has forgotten them, I hate that. I live my life as if someone's going to write a book about it but there's nothing to write about really, every day's just the same mundane shit. Wake up too late. Step on the scales. Eat something, not enough. Lie in bed unable to think. Lie in bed too able to think. Exercise until I can't move, until I can't think anymore. Lie in bed again. Read maybe write but I can't write anything good anymore. Then fall asleep far too late. I want to stop because I'm just not living but the idea of living's too overwhelming and I want help but I don't think it would help and honestly I just wanna be shoved in a hospital for a month and come out cured. I just feel so stuck, like my life's a never-ending series of catch-22s. I don't wanna get drugged up on prozac, or anything really, I'd rather be organically miserable than chemically happy. Besides, a good mood is more dangerous for me than depression, based on past experiences it is anyway. But maybe I don't really know what a true good mood is, either way, I'm certain being out of your mind on anti-depressants isn't a true good mood either. I despise my self-awareness, I wish someone could tell me some bullshit about why I am the way I am and I'd believe them. I'm as thin as my young fat self wanted to be yet I feel nothing but a hatred of my body and a desire to be thinner. The only certainty left in my life is that I'm completely losing my mind. I have completely lost faith in every belief anyone has ever had, everything must be questioned. I yearn for truth and nothing but but I'm clever enough to know that truth doesn't exist, so I'm stuck chasing my tail forever. Maybe one day I'll learn to stop thinking. Maybe one day I'll be drugged enough to stop thinking. Maybe one day I'll destroy my brain enough to stop thinking. I do not live in the world. Only my brain. Everyone's worried now, I love it, I hate it, I'm selfish. It's illegal for me to be a victim. I'm just a big bundle of paradoxes and hypocrisy. My self-destructive "selfless" purifying quest has become almost religious, I hate religion it messes with people's heads yet I've still managed to create my own personal one. How is is religious fasting any different? Anorexia Mirabilis' existence just proves that there's no difference. If I said all this was to prove my loyalty to a god it'd all be fine, but because it's to prove my loyalty to morality it's wrong, the defining factor of my illness is that I don't believe in an invisible man in the sky. I'm starting to be perceived as I always wished, but no admiration. Only pity, HATE. Sexuality always just feels evil, I see why masturbation is viewed as a sin, she is suffering. Hate how much of life is gluttony, I don't need it. I am an actor in the film of my life, no, I am a playwright. I can make whatever I want happen, I can embody any character and portray them convincingly. It's empowering. It's disgusting. Disgusting. No real person underneath. Only a shell. Called me insightful, bollocks, she was an old bitch. Smiley yet so bitter. Icons - Meaningless - Corrupt - Imperfection. Nothing remains consistent without guilt. Respect no one = peace. This is all a game. Life's a game. I manipulate. I am no one. You don't know me. I am a series of masks. Body's a game, if I die I don't care. "Your family will be sad" and I only care about it while living. I can care preemptively but existence won't matter. There is no such thing as a truly selfless act, thought, or feeling, it is human nature to protect oneself. Nothing more powerful than going against my own nature. I despise humanity. All the world's violence is perpetuated by humans and I want no part of it. Animals kill eachother but they have no concept of morality, we do yet we still do horrible things. Lust? Human. Love? Human. Hate? Human. Happiness? Human. Purge if all. Cyberman. Vulcan. I am not suicidal. I am indifferent.