I’m so numb.
I have no idea what to feel when I’m not sad or trying to smile and laugh to prove to others that I’m fine.
And when I have rare moments of utter solitude and stillness, where I’ve accepted everything wrong and right.
I’m numb.
I’m void of words.
Stripped of emotions.
Empty.
And in these moments I have this sudden urge to call a friend and just talk, about anything at all.
But as I hear the annoying yet comforting ring of the phone I panic and cut the call.
I’m terrified of needing someone.
Because in the end aren’t we all left insufferably and inevitably alone.
So then I sit and try to feel content in my own company only to realize I hate myself.
When I look in the mirror, I don’t like who I’ve become.
I don’t know who I’ve become.
Then I get back into the feeling of depression and conflicted emotions and only then do I feel as though everything is back to normal.
I realize that this is wrong.
But I’ve become so used to being lonely and lost that the concept of having people who care and finding my way is a very scary and intimidating thought.

 

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