It’s odd, but not even sure I have much to recover from. I just don’t think that I’m meant to live long term. Every time I think I may have broken the surface, that I might be ready to live my life and not have the constant “but why are you really doing this? what actually matters to you?” hanging over my head, I’m sucked back down. I really don’t even know exactly what or where “down” is, but it’s a terrible place at which I often find myself. I hate admitting any of my problems or how disconnected I feel from myself, so if I ever talk about anything it’s with a certain lighthearted tone as to keep myself from being taken too seriously. But I’m honestly terrified. I’m terrified of living. It just doesn’t feel worth it to me. Yet, on the other hand, death scares me even more. Because while I do hope, and believe that God is out there and watching out for us, I’m not certain how much of that faith I really hold on to anymore. Too many terrible things happen and I’ve seen so much of it with my own eyes. However, a lot of the world is also quite beautiful, and so we’re back to “I just don’t fucking know.” I suppose you could say that I’m depressed, but that doesn’t quite feel like the proper description. So for now I’ll say that I’m lost and trying to find myself, but the me I’m trying to find is dead therefore I’m destined to spend my life hopelessly searching.
I’ve been tearing up on and off today and just feeling all around bad. What’s wrong with me? Can’t there just be a simple explanation for it all…please? Or a simple way out.
I need time to myself. I haven’t had a moment to myself in almost two weeks. I love you, but fuck this wasn’t the best idea. I need a moments peace and then I want my own time with just me, my books, and my crochet needles. AND THEN SOME TIME WITH MY SISTER BECAUSE OMYGOD. I just want us all to be happy and healthy again. The more I think about it the more I realize that I’ve been sad and anxiety ridden for as long as I can remember. I just never recognized or acknowledged it I guess? Or I’m crazy and over thinking all of it. Fuck if I know. Which is partly why I’m so scared to go to the doctor for it. What if they blow me off? What if how I feel is completely normal and I’m stuck like this? I think that’s what I’m most afraid for. I feel so abnormal and foggy most of the time but what if it is normal, what if it isn’t something that can or needs to be fixed? What if I’m just not a driven or passionate person? What if I just don’t care? That isn’t a way I want to live. If I have to live like that, I’m not sure I want to live at all.
Why am I still stuck on him? Why can’t I move on? Why is this so hard? Why does this hurt so badly? Why do I miss him? Why do I want him to hold me and never let go? Even though I know he’s not over her and they’re fucking again. I know these things and I know he’ll never want me like he wants her, but I pine after him anyway. I know where this road leads, and it’s nowhere good. So why can’t I turn around?