Happiness is for those who are not me.
I find my mood this week going from amazing to completely shredded. I keep thinking about the people I care about, realizing they don’t think about me nearly as much as I think about them. I’m not saying I have to be on their minds 24/7, but it would be nice to get some feedback every now and then. The people I end up liking either ignore it, ignore me, or do a complete about-face and hate me for no goddamn reason, when all I did was want to say I find you to be beautiful, an my blood pumper kinda stops working for a sec and only restates when I get that initial “hello” from you. I almost find myself wishing alcohol’s blackout effects were retroactive, so I could forget the moments that keep cracking me. The people I involve myself with (not sexually) tend to not give a shit about me or how I’m doing. I’m clearly not okay, and I don’t like to bug people about my problems. This combo usually leads me to post something short and depressing on Facebook. I’m not concerned with people responding to it, but you can see how it’s difficult for me to believe that people care when they comment on my misery with a one word “dislike”.
I’m thinking about shutting down altogether, just smashing my phone, deleting my facebook and tumblr (for all, what, 3 of you?), closing up my reddit account, and just getting as drunk as I can all the time with my cousin I hate oh-so-very much. I’m worried as hell all the damn time, I feel guilty for nothing at any given moment, and it would just be nice to have someone to talk to about how I feel, but I’ve been abandoned by my family and friends, so…
Here I am. For now.
