intuitive conviction

My mind is stuck in a rut, I try to get out but I don't give a fuck. My cognitive distortion keeps me down. I'm growing part, my face to the ground. Every time I work on myself I trip over a rock thrown from the past. These ghosts that haunt me, happiness never last. These tiny tears get in my eyes, they blind me and keep me from seeing the lies that we tell, I like my sickness, dont want to get well. I keep fighting the love don't want to get well. Because getting well means leaving the hell that I'm used to, I'm comfortable within and I'm in love with my sin and it's frightening to think I can have a beautiful life become someone's wife having a relationship with my children having all my dreams come true having a career a friendship with you I'm scared of these things not nightmares but dreams. Still hiding behind the mask, getting ready and pretty, judging the dirty while headed to mass. No I don't want to get better, I don't want to get well. I might as well end it, that's the solution, I'm convinced it. So I'll say goodbye. Dear person in the mirror I have to end it with you, it's been unhealthy you've been untrue, you're unfaithful, you're an affliction so I'm splitting up with you you're my addiction.