Jul 31
Constantly thinking about every lover you've had in your life while they've moved on and don't want to talk to you is a different type of pain
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Constantly thinking about every lover you've had in your life while they've moved on and don't want to talk to you is a different type of pain
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I have been losing sleep for awhile now. I really dont want this to continue for long. Because too many hours and Im just in my head..
I thought the worst feeling one could ever experience was pain but no, itâs apathy, because at least pain pushes you to react while apathy completely paralyzes you and makes you feel like a lazy piece of shit who doesn't care about anything
Never felt more alone then now. Being told im too much way to many times has made me feel so unwanted. I dont want to wear this mask for the rest of my life.
The art of being easily forgettable, replaceable and a second choice to the others in complete silence
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âBack Burner/Launching Padâ:
Sometimes, I think to myself âis this it? Is this what everything has culminated too? Is this?â.
And usually itâs over small things, things I honestly shouldnât be hitting heads over because Iâm not doing it too.
So, I tuck it away.
I fold it neatly and pack it in a drawer I imagine in the back of my head that I call âThe Back Burnerâ.
But lately, the Back Burner is starting to overflow.
All the tiny instances of âwe should be working on thisâ, âthis needs to be replacedâ, âwhy hasnât this been done yet?â, and âwas this taken care ofâ is just flowing out like a constant stream all the way up to the front of my mind that I call the Landing Pad.
I feel like Iâm driving myself insane, because Iâm overwhelmed by it all.
The house projects, the job searching, the social functions, all of it.
But when I bring it up to the others in the house, theyâll say theyâll do it, but then never do.
It just feels like their default is to excuse and lie, and thatâs all their family does.
But I know thatâs wrong to think, because weâre all neurodivergent and varying degrees of mentally ill.
Yet, at the end of the day, I still feel like because of this that I have to do everything.
I have to be the one to tackle the house projects.
That I have to be one to find a new job so that I can financially contribute to bills and groceries and gas, so then eventually I can move us out to place that isnât falling apart that we can call home.
That I have to be the one to attend the social functions, because I have the ability and energy to show face and lull acquaintances into another period of âyes, everything is fine and dandy back home. They just couldnât make it for *clearly a lie, to mask the fact that they just donât want to be here with you*â.
I have to do it all.
Because clearly they wonât.
They say they will, but they never do.
Sometimes I think about the stuff I said or wrote to someone, or even here on the internet and then I think: "someone shoot me in the head please, I am dumb"
This pain's my only home:
God I wish I could just overdose and die but I can't because of all the people I would leave behind.
This pain's my only home, for love I have never known.
I wish I could just disappear but inside me burns this fear.
The fear of the unknown, this pain's my only home.
It wraps around me like a shadow, feeds me with all this sorrow.
It seems like I can't escape and the only way's forbidden, so I'd rather just stay hidden.
It feels like no one seems to see me, and no one's there to really free me.
God I really feel alone, because this pain's my only home.
By Sirinheart666