Push Me to the Edge (all my friends are dead)

  August 25th, 2017 by deadd

I am tired.

Tired of fucking everything up.

Tired of worrying all the time.

Tired of being tired.

Tired of existing.

I’ve been isolating myself more and more for no reason. I don’t really want to be around other people, and other people are offput by how unresponsive and reticent I am. It’s weird, because I’ll get high, and then the fact I have not eaten makes me feel even more high, in a way. It’s sort of like a state of bliss. But, clearly, not eating has pretty heavy cognitive effects, one of which is almost appearing like a zombie to others. It is not something that’s easy to explain. There’s a euphoric sense of power associated with plummeting blood sugar levels, contrary to the weakness, fatigue, and shakiness.

I feel like I’m in a different world than everyone else. The obvious solution to withdraw even further. I’m trying to grip onto reality, but I am so overcome by paranoia, and I’m almost positive it’s actually affecting my life. My anxiety skyrockets, mostly in social situations, and in turn, I act a bit off, because I’m so fucking busy worrying about being awkward, as if I even care what other people think of me? What is their hidden motive? I know they’re out to get me, or humiliate me. I feel like I can’t properly comprehend social situations, so I’m worried I really just look like a fucking wreck. A simple example would be a guy sending me a text right after we hang out, and then precede to not answer. Now I’m just going and going about what if this, what if that, and my roommate had to be like “dude, he probably just went to sleep, relax, it’s midnight.” I severely overanalyze everything, so I will start worrying about something trivial like accidentally appearing rude because I didn’t say bye loud enough when I was leaving, even though I’m soft spoken. Anything that I can worry about.

Honestly, writing this I know how stupid it is, thinking back on it. How so real these feelings are when they happen, but when it is not actively present, it does not seem logical, or practical. I used to have my boyfriend ground me into reality, but now I broke up with him and I don’t trust anyone else. I get so fixated on a certain thing that it spirals, and morphs my whole sense of reality. I’m always quick to blame myself for everything that could potentially happen. It’s narcissism with a twist; instead of seeming conceited, I assume everything has to do with me, that it’s my fault, or the notion that I’m even involved in the first place. I’m always itching for more ways I can degrade myself. In a way, it gives me a sort of gratification.

Some people are wired to be quite self-destructive, I suppose.

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