Never good enough

I support you at difficult times, just as you do for me, but you really have no idea how much I hide.
Even though we are the closest of friends, I doubt you will be able to comprehend.
I can't take the agony; I can't take the pain; I feel numb for no apparent reason.

I live a life that is completely alone, full of broken and shattered hopes, constantly angry for no apparent reason, and constantly yearning to put an end to this fight.
I constantly battle with myself, and occasionally I wish my life would end.

Mom is depressed but chooses to hide, vents her rage on those who are close to her, and doesn't understand when I try to help.
She avoids me and hates me at my place.

Grandma is suffering from an inescapable fate.
She is now in the hot seat due to illness.
Sad to watch another another innocent person succumb to cancer.

Too many friends also suffer harm
believing that life is a living misery.
Too many friends are trying to stop and believe that their only option is suicide.

But the worst of all is inside of me.
I'm not sure how long I can maintain my posture.
Happy memories are pushed aside, but terrible, twisted thoughts persist.

I can't do anything to make her proud.
Her clouds don't have a silver lining, though.
I am a downpour with pitch-black skies and a menacing downpour of falsehoods.
I simply hope I could show her that I'm making an effort to be someone she can love and rely on.
She says I'm not good enough instead.
I always make the incorrect choices.
She keeps telling me that I'm not following the road that she really wants me to, but I'm just making one giant mistake.
I would remove myself from this place if I could so I wouldn't have to deal with this fear.

I also wish I could be slim, joyful, fun, and attractive all the time.
Instead, I am disappointed with the reflection I see when I glance in the mirror.
When you don't love who you are, it's difficult to live. You wish you could change everything.

I make a mental note every day.
What exactly would I miss if I left?
And how much pain makes me teeter on the brink
is gradually climbing the hedge.
How long can I continue before my life is a distant memory?