Just talking to myself

This is the shit I’m talking about. There is no one that understands what this feeling is in my life and no one that can have a conversation that is helpful.

I’ve told the two people close to me about my mental state but they all seem to think it’s a short lived phase. I’ve been here before and I know that’s not the case, until something drastic changes I’ll be stuck in this pit. It’s not going to disappear. They asked me how I was in that condescending tone that makes me feel so out of place and eventually I just started telling them I was better. To be honest and tell them every day is a struggle only makes them think it’s not serious, not that they ever realized how serious it was to begin with. They all think it’s fine now. Great. Except it’s not fine and I still have to fight the urge to jump off a bridge every day.

I called, one small topic in hopes it would be enough to have a short conversation, instead I got nothing except the feeling that I bugged by calling at all and a ten second, should have been a text, response. I give up on friends. This is completely pointless and I don’t do well with friends apparently.

No worries, it’s fine. It’s always fine. I’m the strong one who never cries, who lets everything roll off her back. That’s what they see. Really I’m just already under water and so all the new shit can’t sink me any further so my reactions are dulled. I’m faking it, it’s all okay.