I have my first session with a therapist at my school tomorrow, and a part of me wants her to tell me I’m crazy. If I’m crazy, then all the anxiety I feel is justified, in some way. If I’m not crazy, then it’s all just me. I’m making myself miserable. I’m ruining my life. There’s no one and nothing to plain, I can’t even rely on mental illness, it’s just me being a whiny little wuss. I know that most people are terrified of being found crazy, that people who actually have mental disorders would trade just about anything not to have them, but I never claimed I was a good person.