Wilbur Angst

Chapter 6

!TW Ed, sh, depression, sleep paralysis, swearing TW!

(Wilbur POV)

Dear fucking diary,

Life is so slow nothing really happens anymore. It's the same thing every fucking day. I feel overwhelmed and underwhelmed at the same time I just need a break. I just want everything to stop, the emptiness, the pain, the numbness. I don't understand what these feelings are anymore, I just feel like one of those characters that no one really notices that ends up dying later on in the show. I'm not the comedic relief, not the main character, not even a side character even. I'm one of those characters in the background, watching as everything happens and then gets blamed for the bad things that happen.I wasn't even involved in the first place, or at least not until they needed someone to point a finger at.

I don't really know why I feel like this. I find myself losing interest in the passions and the hobbies I used to care so much about. I used to love to play my instruments and watch streams on twitch, and do all my little art projects, but now. I just feel empty and numb with a hint of pain that always likes to make its way to me around this time of year. The 2 year anniversary of my mothers passing is coming up, it's crazy to think that it has been almost two years already. The official date of her death was in may either the 28th or 29th, I can't even tell because they don't know how long she was dead for. Me and Tommy were out at a friend's house while Phil was out on another one of his little adventures. It was Phil's friend Puffy who found Mother in the house. Puffy was at the house because she was getting concerned since no one had talked to or seen Mother in the past couple days and I mean I wouldn't have any way to have known 'cause I was at a friend's house with Tommy. I didn't receive the news till the 2nd of June which is when Phil had gotten back home. I still remember the way I cried that night at 9:14pm June 2nd, 2020 I found out about the news of my Mother passing. It still feels like yesterday, If only I didn't go to my friend's house, if only I stayed home with her, maybe she would still be alive.

It's been 72 days since the last time I committed any form of self harm. It's been about three close calls of me almost relapsing in the past week. Eating is still a pain but now it's not even the voices that are the ones making me avoid food, I do it on my own call. That call is not having an appetite and feeling ill when I do end up eating. I think I might have an eating disorder but I don't mind. I mean I deserve it. I'm always useless and in the way so I might as well not be a waste of food while I'm at it.

I've been so emotionally exhausted In the past couple days, I hate the feeling of knowing I'm not good enough but having no energie to change it, I mean for christs sake the amount of times I've found myself blankly staring at the wall with my headphones blasting my ears until they start ringing. I just don't feel the need to keep going at this point.

Everyone keeps saying that "It's gonna get better" they've been telling me that for the past four years and it really doesn't feel like it is gonna get better. If anything it's getting worse and harder. I just want a way to escape. I don't want to do this anymore.