Everything’s Good…

When you feel everything and feel nothing. When you feel so much at the same time it makes your head hurt and your mind start to shake. When you feel so much in despair that you can’t move. When you feel you’re not good enough for people. When you feel you have no reason for feeling so shitty but you do, and it confuses you and hurts you and hurts those around you. When you can’t explain things and that annoys and upsets folk. When you get overwhelmed by the most everyday things, then do nothing, and feel shit and useless because of it, and someone else ends up having to do it and it makes you feel like you’re taking the piss. When you have so much in your head that it overwhelms you…and you say “one thing at a time”…and still can’t manage that. When you worry what others think of you all the time. When you feel such a shit person for putting people through what you have. When things are said that bear no relation to you, and you think they do. When you’re so scared of losing everything because of the way you are.  When you hold back the tears every single day because you’re scared they won’t stop if you start. When you feel so pathetic for feeling so pathetic. When you find yourself staring at space, or the wall, with everything running around your head.

If I’m doing other things when I’m around you or with you it’s because I’m scared. It’s because I’m trying to keep busy and away from myself….not you. It’s because I think I don’t have anything interesting to talk about…or anything that you will find interesting…even though you might! I convince myself that no one is, because it’s only me, and unless you ask me then my stupid head tells me to shut up because i’ll just be annoying you.

Every night I go to bed, sometimes eventually late, because that time in between going to bed and falling asleep I am within my own mind and the chaos and worry and darkness, and I’m shattered. My mind is shattered. It’s burnt out. This is going to sound really really stupid….but some nights it feels like I wish my mind could cry, and burst, and release, but not me physically.

And all through this we have a life to live each day.

And then I sit here for twenty minutes thinking whether I should just delete everything I’ve just written because who wants to listen to my shite. Who wants to put up with it all. The constant battles and arguments and thoughts that hammer around in there are terrifying sometimes. They’re evil and hurt and if you let your guard down they will hurt you, and more. I damn well f*****g hate myself sometimes,because of the way I am with people sometimes

 

 

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