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i shut up, i remain silent, i listen and i listen, all the fucking time. adsorbing all of the negativity, taking it all in. adding it onto my own sorrow, for months and months, as if it isn't crushing me beneath its immense weight. i convince myself helping others is my only source of energy, i convince myself this is a healthy cure i've found for my illness.
and then suddenly there's one person, it could be a complete stranger in a café, on the internet, it could be someone that seems to not give a single shit about me, it could be someone that gives off an energy of being annoyed by me, but enduring me nevertheless. i can't read the room, i talk and i talk, all the fucking time. suddenly, i'm the most talkative person ever.
i overshare, i tell them about my eating disorder, i tell them about failed suicide attempts, about my night terrors, about my demons. i make disgusting jokes about my depression, i tell them i'm just overdramatic. i tell them my fears, my shames, my ugly sides and i joke about it, laughing it all off. i want to quit, but i can't seem to shut this faucet off once the water starts flowing.
