My thoughts all of the time:

I love immersing myself in other lives, whether that of fictional characters, or real life people, it makes me forget about how shitty my life is. I can just put myself entirely inside of a new world, so I briefly forget about this one. But when that episode ends, or the call ends, or even the last page of the book ends, the hollow and empty feeling returns. I’ve said this before many times, I just want to die. It’s exhausting going through this cycle. I’m so fucking empty and there’s nothing I can do about it. I won’t die because of my family, but that just makes the spiraling worse. I’m trapped.