I don't like words.
I don't like thinking. Talking. Sleeping. Not sleeping enough.
At this point I'd rather not exist. The only way I can feel happy anymore is if I forget everything, distracted in the moment. As long as I'm conscious, I'm tied up. I'm suffocating without ever dying. Just endlessly suffocating.
I don't want to be significant.
I don't want to be insignificant.
I don't want to matter.
I don't want to not matter.
I don't want to be on any part of the spectrum of reality.
If I get close to this place, words stop forming into the intelligible. They come out like stillborn mutant half-grown things, mangled and tied up in each other and missing vital pieces. This place is outside of language. And I hate it. I hate every second of this.
I want everything to stop. But I don't want to die. I don't want to suffer physically too, and I'm not committed enough to make a permanent decision like that. On some level I know this is just something expressing itself, but I can't give it what it needs. I can't understand. I don't want to have to understand i don't want to think i don't want to want anything i don't want i don't want I WANT IT TO STOP
All I can do is cry.
Not sure how I can still be so composed. But then, I've worked full-time for years with sleep deprivation. Sometimes I get as many as 7 hours. There have been nights I've gotten less than 3. Years ago, that was common. And some nights I never slept. I know how to function with insufficiency.
I need something desperately. But I feel like it's already too late. I don't want to know what anyone thinks of me now. I want someone to care. I want everyone to care. I don't know. But nobody gets it. Nobody will ever feel this. They might feel something like it, someday, somehow, sometime. But they'll never feel this, my version, my experience. They'll never understand like I do. What are you always talking about? I don't always get it. Sometimes my mind fizzles out before I get to the end and I just give up and pretend it never happened.
Did it happen if I've forgotten it?
How does this reality thing even work? I don't get it.
And I do. My mind knows all the right answers. I'm sane.
I'm just emotionally fucked.
I don't know why I'm writing this. No. I do. I want to get it out. I want the rawness of how much I hate this to be visible.
Probably going to be given a lot of advice I'll pretend to acknowledge and never bother even trying to follow or understand. Because it missed the point. It missed me.
I don't have the energy to try to communicate myself anymore. I can't do it. It never comes through. Probably because I'm missing myself or something but I really don't care because it hurts too much to be alone in this. I don't wanna keep trying to express myself just to be misunderstood or ignored. It doesn't feel worth it. I guess people just can't do that.
I'm out of words.
I wonder if I'm losing my sanity. No, doesn't feel like I'm near that yet. Just my stability.
This might be overdramatic. But right now it just feels honest.
Still trying to be heard, even after all this.
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