JovialityisNot

still here… they care…

JovialityisNot

I haven’t been reading or drawing or writing. I’m so tired all the time. So tired, so tired. How long will it be till it all comes crashing down? I’ve been having those thoughts again. Again, again, I’ll lose my friends. Again, I’ll drown. Again, again. I have to change. I have to run. I want to do so many things. I’m going to die.

JovialityisNot

Hurting. Divine punishment. I always fall back into these habits. I deserve it, don’t I?
          
          What does it mean to deserve? To be selfish? What are the scales of my sins adding to? Eternal suffering?
          
          I always fall back into invisible arms.

JovialityisNot

Do they know? Of course not. What am I thinking? Haha. How would they feel when I act around /her/. So… frightened because of /her/. 
          
          They’re so open, yet so distant. I could never be so open. Maybe the distance is in my head. Perhaps I’m the clingy one. I never know. 
          
          How would the feel when I’ve never supposed to be here? I wish I never met them. I’m not someone you can save, someone you can fix. I’m a lost case. And everything will go downhill.
          
          Occasionally, in my mind, I indulge in the thought of being alone, so lonely.

JovialityisNot

“Crying doesn’t help.”
          
          I can’t speak to my family about any of this. They believe mental illness awareness is “so white.”
          
          I can’t breathe. And I can’t tell them that. 
          
          Because I’d rather her and have a place to return to than be free and have no where to go.
          
          Hurt me. Hurt me. Hurt me. Hurt me. Hurt me. Please.
          
          I want to disappear off this planet and live a different life. No heckling family. Some friends that I keep at arms length. 
          
          So I can be myself, and no one will judge.

JovialityisNot

I could just talk to them but it’ll hurt. Better to not do it so I don’t get hurt. Maybe I’m just too sensitive.
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