You ever feel yourself losing it?You ever feel your life escaping through your finger tips?You ever feel so lost you can’t feel?
I have moments in my life where I have suicidal thoughts, where I feel so alone I don’t want to keep going. But they’re just thoughts. I have moments in my life where I just want to cry and cry. Then cry some more. But I don’t have a reason to, so I don’t. I have moments in my life where I contemplate picking up a needle and trying something a little more intense, something I’ve never done before or maybe sniffing some pills and hoping for the best. I don’t know why I have these thoughts. I don’t know when they started, but I do know they don’t go away. They just hide away. I think I look like a very happy person. If you seen me, my smile makes you smile. It’s contagious. You ever encounter someone like me? Imagine being me. It’s all a lie. It’s all fake. I know that. But no one else does. I’m a really good liar. I think I’ve said that before. Ironically it’s what i hate most, a liar. I have moments when I’m so happy. So so happy. My world feelings like rainbows and butterflies with unicorns and shit. Those moments don’t last very long, but they come. I fear very little things. Atleast in comparison to most people. I don’t really fear things. I fear my emotions. I fear my thoughts. But I’ll never say it aloud. Which is why I write. And no one reads this so it makes me feel better until I remember I’m alone because no one reads this. My mind is crazy. Maybe I’m just crazy. Who knows. It’s bound to get better. Twenty’s are supposed to be great, right? I should be having the time of my life. I feel so alone all the time. As I wrote this in an empty room full of things I’m supposed to be grateful for I feel even more alone. I don’t know what’s scarier at times, my thoughts or my emotions. I guess they both relate to one another, so they’re basically the same thing except I know they’re not. I have moments in my life when I am everything I want to be that day and then moments when I’m everything I never wanted to be. I think I’m depressed. I’m pretty sure I’m depressed. I think it’s worse than I think or anyone thinks. I never minded being alone. You should be able to enjoy solitude. Until you go crazy. What happens next?


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