slightly mysterious bruises

I've made my bed, and now I have to lie in it.

I don't expect people to help me whenever I tell them what's really making me worry, what's making me a wreck. And there's only about two people here that I can really open up to without thinking that they're probably judging me. I've been frank, I've been abrasive, I've been reactionary. And now I have more regrets than I've ever had in my entire life, and I'll just have to deal with it. There's just no other way about it. I so badly want a do over on the past two and a half years, but that's just not possible.

I've dug myself into this grave. All I'm asking is that you say goodbye to me before I cover myself up in dirt, disappearing from your sight forever.