Beginning of the end'

I'm more screwed up than you can imagine.
I think about things people don't think about.
I have a social anxiety disorder.
I self harm. You name it I've done it.
I can pretty much handle anything so people come to me for help even though I need the help more than they do.
Sometimes the only voice I hear is the one I need to run from.
Sometimes I'm the happiest person you'll meet but I still hate myself.
Sometimes I stop eating so I'll be pretty, but that's the problem.
Sometimes I want to help you understand me, but you don't care.