I give up.
It's just the little things, they prey on my mind, and add to the gaping insecurities which are already there, and they get bigger and bigger and spiral downwards until I feel like it's just all too much to bear.
I wish I could stop caring about the insignificant details. But I've always felt that the details do matter; at least, I don't know how to stop them mattering to me. They don't seem to matter so much to other people. I guess it's just all in my mind. And I probably shouldn't be asking (much less expecting) other people to deal with the mess in my mind.
I don't think I've done a single thing right all day.