I'm scared to tell my family about my problems.

My parents are burdened enough with my sister.

Sometimes I feel like I shouldn't be scared, that I'm their daughter too and they would be more than happy to help.

But most of the time, I feel like they'd ignore me.

I'm scared they won't notice that I'm dying, slowly inside.
Yesterday, I showed my baby cousin a picture of him and his dad, saying how cute it was

"Do my fat rolls show?"

Was the first question out of his mouth, before he even saw the picture.

He's twelve.

He sucks in his stomach, exercises until he's exhausted, and was talking about going on a diet.

I'm scared for him.
My cousin recently got married to her best friend.

She's been hurt so many times before this day finally came.

Their marriage gives me hope that one day I'll find that special someone and marry them.

Or for right now just get a boyfriend.

Whenever my mom verbally abuses me, I wait until she's gone to her room before I sneak into the kitchen.

There, I lick each piece of her expensive toffee.

Every single one.

I thoroughly believe that I am not only going to die this year, but I'm afraid that no one will really be affected by my being gone.

One of my biggest fears is not death itself, but dying without making an impact on anyone's life.

I told this to a friend and she just shrugged it off like I was joking.

That made me even more worried about it.