The Simple Conflict

I write down what bothers me, and want to share it.
But then I think no one can help, or no one cares, so why bother?

So it stays inside, and eats me up. But I want to let it all out.
But I can't, because I'm so certain I can't be helped by anyone.

I'm tired; I've seen this cycle for far too long, and know it too well.

If I could think of how I could be helped, I'd be fine. But I don't know how to be helped.

Headed to rock bottom, slowly but surely.