I’m not in the right kind of headspace right now.
My moods are just so fucking erratic and insanely volatile that it severely frustrates me and everyone else around me that’s unfortunate enough to fall victim to my inconsiderable foulness. One moment I’m joking around with people and simply hanging around in a chill demeanour, but then someone says something petty and irrelevant that somehow gets me all worked up and then the next thing I know, I’m screaming profanities at everyone and hurting myself again for the stupidest of reasons.
I hate this, I really do. I know I’m being idiotic, and to barely any reason that’s excusable to logic, but I can’t fucking help it.
A weighted feeling is building up inside me, and it’s leaving my soul hanging itself in a teeth-gritting suspense. Maybe it’s just me, but I feel like something’s changed. Something so trivial and succinct, and yet it’s shaken up my perceptions and right now, it’s screwing up my entire mentality. And I can’t even figure out what it is. I’m two days away from graduating and the results of the only college exam I took are going to be released (or maybe already is), and I’m not holding out on too much hope, so maybe it’s that. The pressure of everything, the burden of the future and the flickering candle that it holds out for me. The feeling that I should blow out the flame myself before the wind does it for me. So close to the next page, and yet I’m giving up and burning it all away.
It’s foolish, isn’t it? Acting out like this at such a crucial point in my life. My problems don’t amount to anything, so why should I keep on bitching about it? And why am I letting it get to my head? Who gives a shit, anyway? What the hell is wrong with me?
Why the fuck am I falling apart?
Honestly, I don’t even know anymore. Maybe this is my boiling point, and my head’s just about overflowing right now. Six or so years of repressing and ignoring the alarming emotions that have attacked me ought to do a fair amount of damage, after all. I just constantly feel weird and unsettled and anxious and empty most of the time, and the main distractions I have to keep me at bay aren’t even working. The endless dreaming that I contradict with my own uncertainties, the ambitions that five seconds ago I’m so sure I could reach but now I don’t think I’ll ever handle to reach for, the people around me that make me feel like shit, either intentionally or unintentionally, the self-hatred that’s so poisonous that it’s making me cave in on myself, everything’s too much. And I don’t know how to expel it from me, how to do catharsis that doesn’t involve me tearing myself to shreds, I don’t how to deal with everything anymore. I’m even considering seeing a therapist or whatever, even though it’s opposed to everything I stand for as a self-built, self-destructive, selfish person, as if I even have the capacity to do that, because I’m really going bad. And once I’m way past my expiry date, there’s no going back.
It’s always been this way, me against the world against me, and I’m a stickler for the familiar and don’t like changing things if they ain’t broke, but how could you do that if everything was already broken in the first place? I just don’t want to punish myself anymore. I’m tired and wrung out of my mind and my insecurities and venomous emotions are relentless and eating me inside out like starving, virulent parasites. I need actual help. I really, really, really need some actual help. Because it keeps getting worse, worse than ever—which after a couple of offing attempts I was a hundred percent sure wasn’t even possible anymore—and I don’t know what I might do to myself if I become insensibly irrational enough and more daring in my fool’s exploits to try to get rid of whatever the hell this unknown horrible feeling is. Who knows how far I’ll go.
And I’m fucking scared. I really am.