🙃

I went from, “I’m so in like with him” to, “I really, really, like him” to, “Holy shit, I think I’m falling in love with him” to finally, “Fuck, I love him”.

Love is scary, and a massive shock to the system when you realize it, or in my case, finally accepting the truth after denying it for so long.

I know that if I don’t roll with it and push him away I’ll regret it forever and be filled with what-ifs, so I’m going to accept the free fall and everything that comes from it.

I’m no longer at the point where I’m making detailed plans with the intention to end my life, but I still fantasise about dying in my sleep, or finding out I have a terminal illness, and it’s too late to save me. I know I’m selfish and horrible for even thinking these things, because there are so many people who don’t want to die, and don’t have any choice in the matter.

I feel like a brat - I know I’m ungrateful for the life I have, I know I have it a lot better than most. But shit. I know very well I shouldn’t be thinking like this, but I can’t escape my own head. All I have comfort in it is the fact that I have no intention of following through with it - I can’t do that to my family, that’s just selfish. So either way, I’m feeling self-loathing and helplessness. It’s an awful feeling.

A part of me wants to reach out for help, but I’m scared they’ll say I have nothing to worry about, that I just need to ‘snap out of it’. I’m so scared about being judged, and disappointing others, especially my parents - they’re so proud that I’ve gotten so much better, and I don’t want to worry them. I don’t want to tell my precious person, and risk them turning around and saying “You’re too messed up. I can’t do this”. I don’t want people to leave me, or look at me differently.