This photo has no relation to me other than the exact feeling right now.
It's two o'clock in the morning. Your name comes up in a conversation while I'm in the back seat of a car on my way home. I stop myself from asking more information about the fact that you still seem to know who I am.
I've been up for less than 12-hours. Sure, I worked until 4am last night, but I woke up at 11 and decided to never get out of bed because what's the point. I need to do groceries, I need to do laundry, my cat is almost out of food. I stare at my dry-erase board that tells me "I am lovable. I am good. I am real" but nothing is sinking in.
I told my boyfriend 'Sorry for being an asshole' to which he replied 'you're not, your brain is just telling you that you are'. I still felt like an asshole. 'I just feel so alone' I said 'just because I'm around people, it doesn't mean that I can't feel alone'. He said he understands. It's nice to feel not alone in feeling alone.
I desperately hope that the plans I make will fall through so then I don't have to feel like I'm putting on my happy face around people who just don't get it. Or feel like a flake when I cancel plans last minute claiming 'something came up'. Nothing came up except for the words in my brain telling me all sorts of untrue things about how terrible I am. Even when the love of my life tells me over and over that I'm wonderful, that I'm enough, that I am so so good, my brain constantly tries to disprove his truths.
I texted my Dad 'I think I'm bipolar' and he just said 'I love you no matter what, just keep smiling'. It's nice, because I know he doesn't get it, but he's trying. I know he's trying. Everyone is trying. I just feel so afraid. I don't know how much longer people can put up with me. There are very few people in the circle of my friends that I know can listen to me talk about my depression and will keep listening, because they love me. That's so very nice to have. But those who don't understand sadness, who say 'just don't think about it' or something along those lines, I have to pretend I'm fine.
It's so stupid being sad over nothing. When the truth is it's not nothing, there's so much underneath, but I can't even start digging because it hurts too much. I don't want to keep reliving the past and the people who hurt me, because I can't figure it out. I don't have the answers. Or, I have the answers and they aren't good enough, because ultimately it comes down to the same final thought 'I wasn't good enough to hold on to'.
It's not like I'm special, or will ever be special. There are 7 billion people in the world, I don't matter. Look up into the sky. That sky is the universe, and we're only a small speck on a planet that's a small speck in a galaxy that's among infinite galaxies. Why do I think I deserve any sort of second thought? But it's those people that we interact with in our every day lives that make us special, right? So why can't I get what I want to feel what I want. It's so stupid. It's all so stupid.
I tried to get back on the online dating thing for about a week until it just made me even more sad, seeing all the people out there, looking for connection. When I started to question the what, what is it that I'm looking for? I guess the idea that I CAN date anyone makes it all so much more stressful. The fact that I could date anyone, so why aren't there more people falling all over me, I crave that attention, why don't more people want to be special in my life, ultimately making me feel special. WHY, WHY WHY?! I already have that attention from people who I love and care about, why do I need more. WHY AM I BROKEN.
It's funny, because I would easily have sex with anyone, if I knew there was a small chance it would even matter and make someone care. Sex is so unimportant to me, people are so intriguing, I want to have the people I am attracted to be attracted to me. So here, have this thing you like so that maybe you can actually want to be around me. That's so material though, it makes me afraid of being ugly. It makes me scared to not be charming and charismatic. So then the depression succumbs my insides knowing that when I'm in this state, and I'm ugly, why would anyone want to be around me. It's easier to push people out.
I'm falling further and further. I am usually able to come back out of it by this point. But maybe my battery finally ran out. I don't know how to recharge.