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My soul is tired now. I'm only 20 years old, but every morning is a struggle just to open my eyes. I cry in my sleep because when I finally do awaken my pillow is soggy. I never thought that growing up would be this hard. Everyday is a new obstacle I overcome practically by myself. Ofcourse I'm too proud to ask for help, but no one seems to offer anymore... Problems accumulate and I have to solve them, otherwise they will consume me. Stress limits this process so that solving my problems takes longer, waring me down faster. Maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment. Being independent is a lonely job, maybe I should just go back home and embrace my mother's warmth. I get writer's block on a regular basis now. Everytime I try to write, I feel emptiness and it scares me to death. Writing is the only thing I don't have to be structured in. I can be free to say how I feel and release some of the anxiety that squeezes my throat in the middle of the night. I feel like I'm losing it...