~ please don’t read if you’re easily affected by negative thoughts/feelings. ~

I’ve grown accustomed to periods where I’m drowning – either in loneliness or in blind despair – and am sometimes lucid enough in these moments to identify a trigger or cause. Spending a weekend more or less completely alone in my room, binge watching TV shows, eating, listening to sad music – typical ingredients for me feeling exceptionally shitty.

Today had every single one of those components, yet I found myself relaxed and peaceful for the most part. I don’t know that there were any distinguishing differences between this weekend and any other apart from the absence of the hollowness. Is it me that decides which days I’ll feel low? Something in my head? Or am I a pawn in something much bigger, unaware of the player’s hand upon me – a marionette oblivious to it’s strings.

The unpredictability of this drives me crazy. One Sunday I’m practically biting myself with frustration at feeling alone, another I’m revelling in the solitude, dancing on my bed. I feel so far away from myself, I often find I never know the decisions I make until the words have left my lips.

I can make myself feel terrified much easier than I can make myself feel happy – which, in itself, is terrifying. I don’t think I ever truly knew the meaning of the word until I’d put the scissors back down again. The knife back in the block. Happy moments are harder to pick out.

I exhaust myself.

(again, please don’t worry about any of the things I’ve said here – this piece from my journal was written a long time ago and I have picked myself up since. i  just wanted an outlet for these things i used to feel. that’s all.)

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