I am At The End Of My Rope

This is what safe gets me.
I'm tired of asking questions. waiting. wanting.
The wanting is killing me the most. It's stopping me from being happy and it's making me sick.
sick.

I'm tired of my fear. It binds me and holds me down.
I want to walk out of here but I know I won't. I want to be eloquent and witty and endearing but i'm not.

I'm weird and needy and closed in and it's pissing me the fuck off.

I'm blocked. I know I am. I'm stopped up.
I can't say i'm constipated because it's like i haven't even shit...ever!
I'm so tired and so ready for somethingelse.

I'm so scared that I'll fail myself. I feel like I'm failing myself right now. I'm deeply unhappy and I'm agreeing to it by sitting here. I'm trying to craft my life around my unhappiness but my spirit won't have it. At least that much gives me hope.

God.
I feel like a 13-year-old with bills and bad credit. Wanting to hang with the cool kids.