I'm Sorry

To all my friends,

Listen, I'm sorry I pushed you away. I'm sorry I tried to get rid of you. I'm sorry I'm such an annoying piece of shit that can't do anything right. I'm sorry you feel like you have to step around my boundaries, and tip toe your way through talking with me.

I'm sorry I lose my shit on the slightest thing. I'm sorry I can hardly go a week without a panic attack for no reason. I'm sorry you feel like I don't belong. I'm sorry for being violent at times. I'm sorry I've never tried to invite myself to anything.

Here's the thing: I have anxiety. I have to take medicine for it every single day, or I lose my mind every single day. I feel like you guys don't want me there, and so I suddenly feel like I don't belong. I feel like to you I'm a charity case; someone who was a friend of someone you were once friends with. Someone you tolerated when you were friends with that person.

I have never felt that any of you were ever there for me. I've always felt I was losing you, though I never really had you. So, I tried to push you all away. I tried to get myself out of being your friend so I didn't get hurt. In the end, it just hurt me more, because I felt that you all deserved better than me. That's why I lose my shit like I do.

Anxiety is so much more than what we learned in a health class. Anxiety isn't just being afraid. Anxiety is a consistent feeling you don't belong, and that everyone you love is pushing you away. People handle it in so many different ways. Some people never know they have it. Some people have random spouts of anger, or have a constant pull on people, clinging to them because they are afraid of losing them, or even pushing them away until they are in a never-ending state of loneliness so they won't get hurt. Some people can somehow push it all away and pretend to have a normal life.

Me? I have spent my entire life bottling up my emotions. I have spent 13 years with an absent, alcoholic father who never calls me by my first name, and another 2 years with an overly clingy, sober father who still hardly calls me by my name. I spent 3 years taking Xanax for anxiety attacks, when I was told I couldn't take them anymore, because I would become addicted. I have spent 4 years living with depression and not telling anyone. I haven't told anyone anything.

Now? I regret that. I regret that I never let any of that out. Now, I have to fight myself not to just spill everything all at once. My bottle is overflowing, and I can't stop it. It's breaking open, spilling if you hit it wrong, cracking even further, and it fills a little more every time it happens, because I can't tell anyone what's wrong. Once I start pouring the bottle, I'm afraid it's just going to hit the ground and shatter.

I cry every time I try to push someone away, or every time I feel like no one wants me in on a situation. I do this because I spent my entire life bottling away the fact that I hated not belonging, and now I realize that I should have spoken up sooner. I should have told someone before it was too late. I've reached the point of no return on that.

Listen, I'm sorry I'm the way I am. I'm sorry that I'm never going to be perfect. I'm sorry that I'm trying to fight too hard, and then too little. Everything is an extreme for me, and I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry that no matter how hard I try, I will always feel like I never belonged in the first place. I'm sorry I want to be your friend, but never give you any reason to be mine. I am sorry that I will never deserve any of you as a friend. 

- The Person Who Feels They Don't Belong

P.S. If you're tired of me, just tell me to fvck off, because I'm done wanting to care about people who don't care about me.