I feel lost...
Not the kind people read in books. Just the plain, quiet kind that sits in your chest when it's 2 a.m. I don’t know which version of me is real anymore. I’ve spent so long being different people for different situations that I can’t tell if there’s anything underneath all of it.
Sometimes it feels like I invented those versions just to justify existing around others. Like I needed to become someone else just to be worth talking to, worth keeping, worth not being ignored. And now I don’t know if there’s a “me” left outside of all that.
Am I actually a person, or just a collection of masks?
Am I myself, or just this account, this voice on a screen?
Or am I really just nobody trying to borrow meaning from anything that will take me?
Sorry for throwing this out here. My mind hasn’t been in a good place, and I needed somewhere for the thoughts to go, even if they don’t reach anyone. You can laugh at this, feel pity, or pretend you never saw it. I don’t think I’d blame you.
I’m planning to make an appointment with a doctor this week. Part of me hopes this is just some kind of sickness, something with a name, something that can be treated. I just don’t want this feeling to be all there is.