Sometimes, the familiarity of silence is more comforting than the love I can within my grasp. Sometimes, misery feels manageable because it is easier than asking for help. Sometimes, suffering feels better than the futile chase for fleeting happiness. Sometimes, solitude feels sturdier than company.
I feel miserable. I sense my mental health is taking a decline. For what reason? Who knows. For once, I don't want to get into the details of it, and for once, I don't want to cry. I don't know what I want, honestly. I crave attention, yet I reject it. What a paradox. Why can't I decide?
Welp, I have an appointment with my psychiatrist coming up soon. Maybe I can work out some of this… mess. Goodbye, lovelies. ♡
