Kind of a vent I guess...

Everything.

Ok so hi, you probably don't know who I am.. Or care for that reason and I'm ok with that. But you can refer to me as Cats, Christmas, sm0lrat, And NotSoGreat. I go by she/her pronouns, I am 13, a Libra as of Oct.3, Bisexual, And am taken. And I... Hate myself? But I don't at the same time... If that makes sense... No matter what I do, I'm not satisfied with who I am. I'm not satisfied with my image, my personality, my everything really. I disappoint myself. And I feel as if I disappoint everyone else as well... I can never seem to meet anyone's expectations, ever. And that hurts, because all I want to do is make people happy. Because if I can't make myself happy... Then at least I can try to make others happy right? ... But no matter how hard I try to do that I can't seem to succeed at that either. So I write stories to take my mind off of the world we live in, and just how much of a failure I am. But even sometimes that's not enough, because you can't write forever, can you? And even when you want to write, you have to think about what you're gonna write, how your going to describe it, you have to put yourself in your characters life and invest yourself as someone you aren't, and that's hard to do... And you could try writing as how you would react to things... But you feel as if people won't like it, but it's not as if people are going to see it anyway are they... because they don't know who you are. How are you supposed to reach people, when you can't even reach yourself... How can you make people happy, when you can't make yourself happy... How? That's all I need to know, because no matter who I try to be I can't make the people I care about the happiest they've ever been. So how? And then just when you start to think you suffer the most pain someone you care about suffers more than you, and you start to question whether or not you even have a reason to feel the way you do, but in life no one wins we all die no matter the decisions we make. After all life is a canvas, and it's our choice whether or not to mark on that canvas... Leave it blank, or sketch on it... Leave it blank, or create a masterpiece.. Leave it blank, or try your best only for no one to notice your efforts as if you'd never even done anything at all. To the point where even the smallest compliments are everything to you. But you're not even sure how to express that gratitude and instead make that person feel as if you don't care about they're opinion when you do... And you want to tell people ho you feel, but you either feel they're to busy worrying about their life to worry about theirs, or they'll yell at you for thinking in such a way and start listing reasons you should be thankful for what you have... And you are thankful for what you have but your tired of hearing them say that, you're tired of being tired.. tired of being you... tired of being in the world, the universe, as if you just want to fall asleep and all off the stress go away. But... you're afraid of death, what happens then? What happens after death? Does everything just fade to black? Do you never hear, see, smell, or taste anything ever again? Do you relive the life you lived an endless amount of times? Do you live in a dream, a fantasy as everything you've ever wanted to be? Or do you just suffer all over again? Are you reborn back into the hell called life again? Do you feel pain after you die? What pain do you feel? What if you wake back up 6 feet in the ground alone again? What happens? How does it happen? And why does it happen? What's the point of living if it's gonna end? To enjoy it while you can? What's there to enjoy about a world where murder is normalized? A world where storming the capital is immediately turned into a meme? A world where people cancel each other for opinions they disagree with? A world where being different makes you unwanted? What is there to enjoy about practically already being in hell... What if we are already in hell? What if we have already died? How did it happen? Why is life the way it is? Why do I exist just to be a tool for other people's enjoyment until they don't need or want me anymore... Why? And why do I always hurt the people I'm close to without meaning to? Why? Why...? And why does this feeling disappear at random times for random amounts of times... As if it was never there.. And then just come back as if nothing happened? My cat is one of the few things that can make me happy now... And my significant other. And occasionally my family, and my friends. But why do I feel they get annoyed with my opinion so often?  Am I just overthinking? Am I paranoid? What is that feeling... And why is it there?