#amiweird

Do you ever feel like your heart is sinking for no clear reason? Not anxiety, not stress, nothing dramatic. Just a quiet, persistent heaviness. A kind of loneliness that sits there even when everything seems fine on the surface.

For the longest time, I’ve been comfortable being alone. I even took pride in it. It felt like something I had figured out early, that I didn’t need people to feel okay. But now I’m starting to wonder if sometimes we convince ourselves of that a little too well. Maybe we learn how to live with loneliness so efficiently that we stop questioning it.

I think part of this is because college is about to end. In a few weeks, everything is going to change. I might have to move away from the people who have become such an important part of my life. And even though we all say distance shouldn’t matter, sometimes it does, and that thought scares me more than I expected.

I still remember my first week in the hostel. I had no friends, I felt completely out of place, and it was one of the lowest I had felt in a long time. Then somehow things changed and I found people who made everything better. It feels strange that I’ve come back to a similar emotional place now, but for a completely different reason. Before, I was lonely because I had no one. Now, I’m afraid because I might lose what I have.

I grew up being alone in many ways. Not a very social childhood, no real sense of having a “best friend,” no constant company. So I built this idea that I was enough on my own, and I still believe that in a rational sense. You don’t need another person to complete you. But when you do find people who make you feel seen and understood, it changes how you experience being alone. It’s no longer neutral. It starts to feel like something missing.

I think what really scares me is being forgotten. Or slowly becoming irrelevant in people’s lives. Being replaced, misunderstood, or quietly judged. It’s strange how these thoughts show up even when nothing has actually gone wrong.

And then there’s everything else that’s coming. The end of college, expectations, exams, jobs, adulthood. It feels like everything is lining up at once. What makes it harder is not just pressure, but the certainty people have about you. When others are already convinced that you will succeed no matter what, it almost feels heavier than doubt. There’s no room left to fail or even to hesitate.

Sometimes I don’t even know what I want anymore. Or what actually makes me happy. It feels like I’m just moving through things because I’m supposed to, not because I’ve chosen them. Like I’m on autopilot most of the time.

There are days when I wake up feeling low for no specific reason, and then I feel guilty for feeling that way. As if I don’t have the right to feel sad because things could be worse. I know pain isn’t something that should be compared, but the guilt still shows up.

Guilt for being tired. For wanting a break. For wanting connection, or love, or just some kind of pause.

It’s strange how we don’t even feel like we have the time for these things. Not even the time to feel unwell properly.

I don’t know how long I’m going to stay on this space either. I was away from it for almost a decade, only coming back occasionally, like it was something I could visit but not fully belong to. And now that I’m here again, I keep wondering when life will take over in a way that doesn’t leave room for this anymore.

Will I still have the time to come back here, to read, to write, to engage with people the way I do now? Or will this slowly become something I “used to do,” like so many other things that once mattered?

This has been the only thing I’ve had outside of everything else. The only so-called “side hustle,” as my friends joke, but it never felt like that to me. It felt like an escape, but also like something real. Something that was mine. In the middle of everything hectic and exhausting, this was the one place that gave me a kind of quiet joy.

The past few months especially have felt different. Almost like I was living two lives. One where everything is structured and expected of me, and another where I could come here and just be… someone else, or maybe a version of myself that doesn’t get enough space otherwise.

But I don’t know how long that can last. That’s the part that keeps coming back to me.

Today, for a moment, I felt like deleting everything. All the posts, the account, just disappearing from here completely. And I don’t even fully understand why. It wasn’t anger or a clear decision. It was more like an urge. A quiet thought that said maybe it’s easier to leave before something else takes it away from me.

Maybe it is some kind of self-fulfilling pattern. Ending things before they can change on their own. Before they can mean too much. Before I have to deal with losing them slowly.

I don’t think I actually want to erase this. Not really. But the fact that the thought even came up feels telling in a way I can’t fully explain yet.

But I guess the point of writing all this wasn’t to bring the mood down, for you or for me. I didn’t sit down with that intention. It just… came out this way.

At this point it really does sound like a diary entry more than anything else. Maybe that’s all it is.

I think, more than anything, I just wanted to know that I’m not the only one who feels like this sometimes. That this strange mix of heaviness, uncertainty, and fear isn’t something I’m making up in my own head. That I’m not the only one quietly going through it while everything on the outside looks normal.

did these on the guardians ‘ask google section’. its a cool section in the magazine where they find questions people ask on google and answer them in an aritcle ^-^

1. am i weird?