I hate how my parents refuse to believe that their golden daughter maybe, just maybe, isn’t perfect.
I hate how I can admit I’m not okay but they can’t.
I hate how even when I say “No thanks,” my dad keeps trying to buy my popularity. Dad, I want my peer to like me. But too bad, they don’t. Even if I don’t like it, I can accept it. Why can’t you?
And then I see tumblr famous blogs and all I can think is… How is THIS tumblr famous?
Whether I wake up at 6:50, 9, 11, 12 or go to bed at 1, 2, 3 they’re still up singing. How do they do it? Do they take turns? It doesn’t really bother me, the sound is nice, but to find them always singing is so confusing… I think maybe they’re adolescent birds. No sleep no problem.
I’m honestly scoring very high for like every disorder. Borderline? Check. Major Depressive? Check. Cyclothemia? Check. OCD? Check. Seasonal Affective Disorder? Check. Generalised Anxiety Disorder? Check. Dermatillomania? Check. This is just some of them, and only the ones I’m scoring extremely high on. Either the internet is messing with me or I really need to figure out how the hell I have friends.
I love all of you indie kids :D
when someone first sees me, when I first introduce myself, do they see the fear and the doubt I try to push to the back of my mind? Do I look innocent? If someone saw me in a picture, or just walking down the street, I don’t know what they would think.
I don’t think anyone truly knows who I am, especially me. I know myself less than the people around me. Everyday I’m changing, and not in the ways I’d want.
Sometimes, I go through these days where, I remember one of my many fears and think, “That’s bullshit. I can deal with that. How was I so terrified of that? Well, today’s the day my fear stops,” and for that day, it does. It stops. I don’t immediately start embracing the fear, letting it become part of me, but I don’t give a damn. If I had to face it on that day, I would.
More often though, I experience days in which I feel happy. I don’t feel invincible, but I feel like I could take on a lot.
But go see me two days, maybe three of four after that happens. I’ll be more terrified than ever. I’ll have reached a very new low. Every single negative aspect and memory of my life, every dream, every thought will be rampaging through my mind.
The most common of my days though, come after the days of negativity. I feel… apathetic. I feel sad, happy, excited, embarrassed, awkward for trivial things, yes. But it doesn’t last long. I feel detached and impossibly impatient. Sometimes there’s a numb feeling of worry, unease. But mostly I just sit, tearing at my fingers and lips (dermatillomania… whoop…), staring at the clock, waiting to leave and get out of whatever it is I’m doing.
When I get home I make minimal “cheerful” conversation, and turn on the tv. I ignore my homework until the very last minute, write down barely enough words or number to pass off as homework, and don’t go to bed until late. Waking up the next morning may be one of the worst physical feelings I’ve ever experienced. Definitely not the worst, but it’s up there. And yes, I count waking and getting up as a physical experience.
This is my life. Save me, please, I’m bored.