I haven’t forgotten about us

The idea of sitting down to write, after a long day of work feels like I have to lift a hundred thousand stone and carry it around the room.

I sometimes see sporadic likes and follows and I just can’t go; really? You like my silly ideas of life.

I think what was holding me down, and this is a hypothesis; I sometimes feel unloved and misunderstood by my family. Even more when I express what I’m feeling which I hardly ever do. So I don’t know what I should say or how I should act half of the time around people, I’m so insecure of my own personality. I have no friends you see, I mean no one reaches out to me and I guess is because of the way I am towards them.

And then when I start connecting with someone they simply vanish. I’m not good on handling abandonment, triggers me just like any other thing that we have covered here (superficially). Being quiet is my coping mechanism, I know that keeping my mouth shut gets me farther than really saying what I think.

So hey, see. I have stuff to say. I have a lot to say but I rather not, I become an messy angry lady who no one wants to be around so I just don’t.

Remember: I’m not okay. And it’s okay.