I hate feeling so much. I hate it. It’s exhausting. I don’t want to feel anymore. I’m tired of hurting. I’m tired of feeling such intense emotions, more than most anyone else feels.
I’m not well right now. And I’m sure people who know me are just like, “meh… she’ll feel ok in a bit. It’ll pass.” Sure, it will pass, maybe quickly, maybe slowly. But in the moment, it feels like it won’t pass at all. The fact is that I feel like I’m on fire right now and people don’t care because they know it happens frequently and that I get through it. So why bother trying to console me, right? Why fucking bother. I end up soothing myself most of the time anyways. What you don’t know is that in these moments, it feels like a lifetime. Now imagine feeling that constantly. You’d want to end yourself, too.
It hurts. It hurts feeling invisible. It hurts being abandoned and ignored. The discomfort I am experiencing in my body right now is pushing the threshold. The heaviness in my chest makes me cry. The pain pulsates and burns. I feel completely alone in this. Nobody understands the severity of it. It’s like treading water but never finding a way out of it. This isn’t a once-in-a-while occurrence. This isn’t a “everyone feels that way from time to time” type thing. You literally don’t get it unless you’ve got it. If you know, you know.
And you just stand there and stare as my world turns to ash, with nothing to say, and then you turn away.
But who cares, I guess. Why should you care?
I cry so much.
I’m screaming on the inside.
I’m drenched in darkness.
I want to sleep until I stop hurting.
I’m burning in the light and you all look right through me.
.
.
.
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