WishingOnA?

I feel unhappy, although I know people are a lot worse off than me. People are starving, living with drug addictions, bringing up children in poor conditions, I feel so ungrateful. I feel as though I’d make little difference to anyone’s life if I wasn’t here. Never been wanted, loved or appreciated in a way that made me feel worthy of even being alive. Smiles, witty comments and jokes keep me from letting my unhappiness through for other people to see, yet this is all I think of, how the past, what may become of the future and how I feel now with myself all contribute to the depressive state I found myself in everyday. Friends help, by making me laugh and distracting me from being deep in thought, but even they don’t understand how I feel, even if I explained they’d be confused, as confused as I am with myself. I trust no one, occasionally myself but I even go against things I say and believe in, unintentionally, with nothing but regret afterwards. I see status’ saying how angry people are or upset over things like boys and relationships, but I can’t see myself ever letting myself become attached to a person so much that I let them hurt me if they leave me. Sixteen and no serious relationship, no feeling towards anyone in the way my friend seem to, no trust or love for a person that could potentially hurt me. Independence is all I seem to know, but it’s lonely. Holding things back is more effort than it seems, how many thoughts can a brain hold? I hope to find someone who can understand me somewhat but thoughts I have and emotions I feel don’t seem to be similar to anyone else I know. I could be a heartbroken teenager, a teenager with family problems, a teenager abused, but my only problem is myself and that makes it harder to release the blame and anger. Family is a group of people I live or have lived with, as with my friends, none understand me. I sometimes think if I were to have an addiction, at least I would feel a purpose, to get my next hit, or if I were starving, to find food, or if bringing up a child, devoting my life to them, but I have no responsibility, nothing to strive for. I could aim for a successful career, but what does that bring? Pride? Who would be proud? The family and friends that don’t know me? Making other people happy could make me see purpose, but what if I’m not even capable of that? Confused. Confused. Confused.