I can't shake my fist at the world because it has done no arm to me. I can't cry for my problems because I am the one causing them.

I am sabotaging myself. I am the one who should study and doesn't, the one who should eat less and still devours lots of cookies every day, the one who should keep in touch with his friends and instead goes entire weeks without answering their messages.

In a way, I envy those who allow themselves to cry in moments of overwhelming despair... there's no guilt in hopelessness.
I am not hopeless, though. I am guilty! And guilt and remorse weigh me down, and I am left feeling paralysed; the more stuff I think I should be doing the less I actually do — and I end up lying in bed all day.

And I hate this. I hate going to bed and falling asleep to thoughts of guilt and false resolutions in the form of "tomorrow I'll do better" — I never do.

There's also fear.
I fear I won't ever become a better person. I fear I might fail in getting my degree or, worse, in keeping a job.

Truth is: I never had to work hard; I was one of the smart kids who got maximum results with minimum effort. I never learnt how to struggle and work hard to succeed, I always got by. And now that more effort is required? I am crushed by it and do nothing instead of trying to accomplish something... anything.
All my other friends, they are doing better than me now because they always had to fight hard and press on. Me? I'm just tired.