The Incomplete Ramblings of an Insomniac

I'm not happy.

I am twenty six years old. I don't know if I have ever felt truly happy. I'm on antidepressants but they seem to be just to help me fake it in public. When I am alone or going to bed is when my thoughts turn dark. I want to be the person everyone sees. I wish I could always be her. But I am me. I am the me who continually fights the urge to self harm. The one who is always been a step away from tears. The one who is so lost in her own head that everyone thinks she is a daydreamer. I am the one who is getting into writing more dark and disturbing things because it's what my brain goes to. The one who wants to have an affair just to feel something. Do I know happiness? Do I know love? Or am I acting merely on chemical jumps in my brain. No one knows how badly I am in my own head. No one hears the voices. No one sees what I see. I tell myself everyday that getting out of bed is worth it. That living is worth it. I am a robot on autopilot and no one notices. No one notices because my walls are too high and they can't see the real me. I love the man I am with. But is it really love or the fear of being alone? Maybe I need to be alone for a while. Maybe I need to move away to a place where I know no one and start fresh. Be someone completely different. Or maybe I need a rubber room. There's something missing in my life. There has been for a long time. I still have yet to figure out what it is. Maybe I wasn't supposed to be here. Maybe I am an old soul that can't adjust. Maybe killing myself would bring relief. Or maybe it would reset my life and I will have to do it all over again. I just don't feel like fighting anymore. I don't think I have enough fight in me. But I don't want to die. I don't want to die because I want to live. I want to be happy. I want to love and be loved. I'm stagnant. Stuck. Alone in the deepest recesses of my mind. No one dares come close enough to find out the truth. They are too busy blindly accepting the facade. They don't care. No one truly does. People only seem to care about how the way you are makes them feel. If you put out good vibes they will follow. I miss school. I miss learning. I miss reading. I miss not being nauseous all the time because I don't see the point in eating. I miss caring about the idiotic platitudes that make up the world. I miss caring. I feel nothing. I see nothing. I am nothing. Fade to black.