Journal of a SAD Girl
Journal of a SAD Girl
I sit in my room, alone. It’s not unusual. I like the solitude as I jam out to music. A smile splitting across my face as I sing the chorus to the empty room. Right here in this moment I’m enjoying myself but I know it won’t last for long. It never lasts for long. Tomorrow I’ll have to go to classes and suffer through the day but for right now, I’m happy.
--
I walk down the path on my way to my first class of the day. My eyes focus down at the ground watching where I walk and praying that I don’t see anyone I know. Luckily I make it to class without any un-welcomed disruptions. I take a seat off to the side and listen attentively. The professor starts taking attendance and my heart starts to hammer in my chest waiting for her to call my name. “Lily Jamison.” I raise my hand and choke out a here as my cheeks flame up. When the professor asks a question that I know the answer to my hand refuses to rise and stays glues to my side. As soon as class is done, I race out of there and to the café to get lunch. As I stand in line, I think about how I’m going to ask for my food, playing it over and over in my mind, so that it comes out alright. My heart pounds and I’m next in line.
“What can I get you?” The man behind the counter asks.
“Tuna sandwich,” I get out.
“Is that all?” he asks. I nod. I wait and as soon as my order is done, I grab it, and find a table in an empty corner to sit at. I blend into the background and hope that no one sees me and I can just be invisible.
--
I’m balling my eyes out silently in bed as everything comes crashing down on me. I can’t handle it anymore. I can’t do this! Why can’t I be normal like everyone else? Why is it so easy for people to talk with one another? They make friends like that. While I’ve been at college a year and have yet to make a friend no matter how many clubs I’ve forced myself to suffer through.
But try as I might I can’t do it. I can’t be around all these happy people. I just want to be back in my room, alone. It’s the only time when I can be myself and not feel like absolute crap.
These people all hate me. They don’t give a shit about me. They don’t understand how hard it is for me to just act like them. To just interact so easily.
Why can’t I have friends? Is it really too much to ask? I just want one friend. One measly friend. I’d like a boyfriend too but that’s asking way too much.
I’ll never have a boyfriend. Guys won’t look at me twice. As soon as they try and talk to me, I panic. My heart starts hammering, my face heats up, and the most I can get out is a few words. Then afterwards I replay it over and over and over again and beat myself up over it. I’m a complete socially inept mess.
I grab my journal and I start writing feverishly as my emotions overwhelm me and flood down onto the paper.
--
Journal Entry #1
It’s just one of those times again when I know that I'm going to live alone. I'm not going to amount to anything. It's perfectly clear. I’ll never have friends ever. It's just not in my cards. I'm not a friends type of person, I can’t handle it. If I can't get something as simple as friends there's no way I'll ever have a significant other. No way in hell, I'm ever going to find a guy for me. It's just not going to happen unfortunately. I mean it has to be that way for some people right? Not everyone gets a happily ever after. Not everyone’s story has some nice happy moment in them. My fairy tale is more like the Brothers’ Grimm ones instead of the Disney ones. Not everyone in the world is going to be alright some people are going to fail. It's just the way the world works. Not everyone finds someone. I can’t deal with people. It's my nature and there's no changing that, I've realized no matter how hard I try. I am who I am and that's it. Some people commit suicide because their life sucks and that's it for them. That's their happy ending. They live a tormented life and then it's all just over with. Their life is gone there was no happy ending. Unless you believe they are in a better place. Hopefully that's everyone's happy ending. I hope because each and every day it becomes more and more apparent that I'm not getting a happy ending in life.
I'm going to end up living all alone. I like to remain hopeful but it doesn't surprise or shock me when I think thoughts like this of always being alone. Most likely it's going to happen. All I can do is embrace it and try not to let it fucking bother me but it will. I know it will. And I hope it never comes to suicide but I'm not going to lie, the amount of times I’ve thought about it already leads me to believe that if things don't start looking up suicide might be the answer. It just might. I mean imagine my lonely scenario. I'm thirty-fucking-five and I've never been kissed, never had a boyfriend. I'm a fucking virgin. I live all by myself. My only purpose is to care for my elderly mother and grandmother. I mean that's it. I'm gone. You don't come back from that. Time goes by and if I don't catch up soon, I'm done for.
The only thing that always keeps me here is my over-thinking and fear. I could never actually kill myself. But I've been getting closer to the edge. I keep playing with the idea. If I got too upset one of these days, the emotion and frustration are going to take over and I fear that my mind won't stop me. My emotions will need a release and by accident I'll do it. I'll kill myself. There will be that one tiny second of "oh shit! What have I done?" and then it'll all be over. And I think that might be good though. The alternative is living knowing you're a pathetic loser who didn't even have the courage to kill yourself and only did by accident. Suffering through every day, battling every battle completely and utterly alone.
There are all those stories though where it gets better after you try to kill yourself, you meet wonderful people but that probably won't happen to me. And I'll be even more miserable until I accidentally do it again. I want to do so many things but it'll never happen. It won't. I'll always be on the edge but I'll just be hovering there miserably until something happens. Until I slip and just end it all.
I don't want to die but I can't live this life anymore. I can't. I can't be around all these people who are so happy that despite going through rough times bounce back with a smile eventually, who can have a good time despite feeling like shit. These people who lean on one another and support one another. I can't do this. I can't even be happy in the presence of people. No good times are ahead for me. Only suffering and trying to avoid the suffering just for one moment to try and find solitude with myself. I'm a fucked up freak when the only time I can half way enjoy myself is around my mom and brother or when I'm completely by myself.
I'm not fit for this social world. We don't fit right. We can never live life the way everyone else can. I've found ways to cope but they're not enough for me to enjoy this life I'm living. They're not enough and one day when I completely can't cope anymore is going to be it. I see everyone being happy and all I can think is how can I be like them and the realization hits me that I'll never be like them. Ever. I don't have it in me. I want help; I need help! But I could never ask anyone for it. How fucking pathetic! And no one can help me anyways. They'll try but it's all superficial because they think they should or because they feel sorry for you and I don't need that shit. I just need to be normal.
I secretly want someone to see that I wrote this but at the same time I'm terrified of anyone seeing one fucking sentence. I can't do this. One day at a fucking time...one day....one week...one month...one year....another year gone by and it's all the same. I go off to college it's all the same. It's always the same because it's me. I'm the fucking problem. I can handle life. I just can't.
--
I stand with the group. There are tons of people here and yet I feel so alone. I am alone. A whole crowd of people not even a couple feet away from me but I'm isolated standing alone all to myself.
I joined this group to make friends and here I am a year later and I wouldn’t call anyone my friend. Everyone’s freezing but happy as hell. Everyone’s talking and having a good time. Talking. Everyone's talking to one another. Huddling together to keep warm. Goofing around jumping from group to group. Mingling. While I'm standing here all alone waiting for it all to be over with so I can go back to the solitude of my room and cry myself to sleep. So I can feel fucking sorry for myself and wallow in my own self-pity.
Everyone's happy, having fun. People on other's shoulders, people holding hands, people hugging. Everyone's happy and having a good time and here I am surrounded by it all, completely isolated in my own bubble of loneliness. People come up to me sometimes but then I just want them to leave. As soon as the awkward silence lingers over us as my heart hammers in chest, they’re gone and here I am all alone. It's only me. The feeling wells up in me and yet my face remains neutral. When someone acknowledges my presence, I fake a smile.
I can't do this. Please let this be over with and let me go back to being truly by myself. Please let the torture stop. Please, I'm begging you. I can only handle so much. Please. Please. I can't keep this up much longer. My throat is getting sore; my eyes are about to water. Please save me. Please. I'm fucking begging you. There's too many people. They are all enjoying themselves and here I am like a fucking idiot. I'm suffering I can't do this.
Finally it all ends. Everyone's happy and says good bye to friends as they all go their separate ways while I go back to my room. Finally safe in the solitude of my own room. I cry. I let the emotions overflow me and the self-hate build up. The suicidal thoughts creep up on me but nothing comes of them as I fall to sleep, the tears drying on my pillow.
--
I was sitting alone eating my lunch as I normally do trying to stay invisible to the world and doing a pretty good job when this girl comes smiling over to my table.
“Can sit here?” she asks nicely as she sits down opposite me.
I nod.
“I’m Tess.” She says placing her hand out. I look un-surely at her before tentatively taking her hand. Then I feel stupid was I supposed to shake her hand? Yeah that’s what you do when you meet someone, it’s not weird.
She’s smiling at me and it make me uncomfortable. Why is she talking to me?
She seems so happy and I’m instantly jealous of her as she keeps talking to me. I wish I could be as upbeat and friendly as her. No matter how many times I stumble with my speech or bring the conversation to a grinding halt, she’s right there smiling and keeping it going. I leave back to my dorm conflicted.
I’m glad that I’ve met Tess. She seems so nice but I know I fucked it up. Nothing will come of it.
--
Journal Entry #2
For some strange reason Tess won’t leave me alone. There must be something wrong with her. She should see by now what an awkward socially inept mess I am by now. She doesn’t seem to care. She finds me most days at lunch and sits with me.
She can go on talking for hours. The smile never leaves her face. She always hugs me when she leaves and I really wish she wouldn’t. I hate people touching me. It’s so awkward.
I hated Tess for talking to me and ruining my solitude bubble but honestly I’m kind of happy that I’m not all alone anymore. It’s nice to have someone around.
I might even call her my friend. Maybe.
--
Journal Entry #3
Tess is the closest thing I have to a friend. She insists that she’s my friend and I vaguely push the subject away. I’ve gotten a lot more comfortable around her.
I’ve actually been able to speak in some decent sized sentences around her. Life has been looking up. I mean classes like to dump a pile of work on me but my social life doesn’t look so very bleak anymore.
I put up with her hugging me simply to not be rude but it’s not so bad now. I’m pretty much use to her happy loving attitude.
--
I was just sitting there shocked beyond belief. I had no idea what to do, what to say. There was no way in hell this was real. No way. This wasn’t happening. No.
Tess wouldn’t do this. What she was telling me didn’t happen. She would never do that. I would do that, not her.
After a hug that lasted forever, her trying to seek some comfort from me and me failing miserably to be supportive in anyway, I walked back to my dorm in a fog. My mind trying to comprehend what Tess had just told me. The thoughts consumed me and I had to write it down to get it all out of my head and make sense of this thing that didn’t make any sense at all.
--
Journal Entry #4
Tess was going to kill herself! Let that sink in for a moment. Tess!!! The happiest warmest most bubbly person that I know was going to kill herself. Like I can’t even process it right now. I’m in fucking shock. When she sat down at lunch, I barely noticed anything different. Until she got that tone to her voice and she started talking. She was trying not to cry and breakdown and I was just thinking uh oh what’s wrong. She was in the hospital and I thought she was going to say she had cancer or something for a moment and then she starts talking about mental illness. Then she goes on to say she was overdosing on overworking herself, she has chronic depression, and an eating disorder. And I was like what the fuck no way! This is Tess we’re talking about. She says she woke up one day and just didn’t want to get out of bed. She called a counselor and she was checked into the hospital. She just didn’t want to go on living. And I can’t believe it! This is Tess. The closest thing to a friend I have in this world. The person who is always there to brighten your day and make me feel important.
If I had to choose between the two of us on who would want to kill themselves more it would have been me not her. And yet here we are. I was envious of Tess she had everything. She had friends, she was so friendly, she looked kind of like me and then this happens and the reality I thought was real was suddenly shattered. Nothing is as it seems apparently.
I thank god that I’m strong enough to never get that bad or desperate. My life can’t be that bad, then. I’m pretty damn content with life. Yeah school stresses me the fuck out and I have no friends or social skills to speak of but I’m not to the point in my life where I can’t get out of bed and I just don’t want to go on living that I need to call someone. I don’t think I would be strong enough to get help once I reached the point that she did. I would have been a goner. My life isn’t that bad I would have given anything to be like Tess and now… I’m rethinking it all. My life can’t be that bad.
I hold on tightly to that little sliver of hope that things will get better and it fades sometimes but I’m clinging so desperately to it that I’ll never let go. It’ll always be in my grasp no matter how much it tries to slip sometimes. Because in the end my life’s not so bad. It’s really lonely but I’ve conditioned myself to be okay with that. I’ve adapted and learned to thrive as best I can with what I was given. And I thank god that life decided that my biggest problem in life was that I don’t have friends, that I’m not good in most social situations.
I’d rather live a lonely life where I can find my own moments of happiness than a life filled with people but can’t seem to muster any happiness for myself. Why is it that all these people that I thought were so happy aren’t? Like Tess, the most likely to brighten your day little miss sunshine, depressed? Going to kill herself? What would I do without Tess?
I know we were never really close close but the thought that she might not have been here today if the last week hadn’t gone as it did, is really scary to think about. I mean she’s graduating soon and I’ll miss her but to have never seen her again? For her to be dead, never to brighten the world with her smile and kindness again. What kind of world would that be?
I don’t know how to talk or act around her. It was hard enough before for me to have a conversation with her. Now what do I do with this information? I follow a philosophy that I act the same around people no matter what but sometimes that’s extremely not helpful. But it’s how I cope and I hope Tess’ okay with that. It doesn’t change much does it? She’s still
Tess, the one person who hasn’t given up on me because of my anxiety with social situations. I always thought that she sat down and talked to me to make me feel better and to brighten my day, I didn’t realize that it might have been because she needed me to brighten up her day. She needed me to be there for her. I fail at that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care. God this is so fucked up.
--
I walk down the path on my way to my first class of the day. My eyes focus down at the ground watching where I walk and praying that I don’t see anyone I know. Luckily I make it to class without any un-welcomed disruptions. I take a seat off to the side and listen attentively. The professor starts taking attendance and my heart starts to hammer in my chest waiting for her to call my name. “Lily Jamison.” I raise my hand and choke out a here as my cheeks flame up. When the professor asks a question that I know the answer to my hand refuses to rise and stays glues to my side. As soon as class is done, I race out of there and to the café to get lunch. As I stand in line, I think about how I’m going to ask for my food, playing it over and over in my mind, so that it comes out alright. My heart pounds and I’m next in line.
“What can I get you?” The man behind the counter asks.
“Tuna sandwich,” I get out.
“Is that all?” he asks. I nod. I wait and as soon as my order is done, I grab it, and find a table in an empty corner to sit at. I blend into the background and hope that no one sees me and I can just be invisible.
--
I’m balling my eyes out silently in bed as everything comes crashing down on me. I can’t handle it anymore. I can’t do this! Why can’t I be normal like everyone else? Why is it so easy for people to talk with one another? They make friends like that. While I’ve been at college a year and have yet to make a friend no matter how many clubs I’ve forced myself to suffer through.
But try as I might I can’t do it. I can’t be around all these happy people. I just want to be back in my room, alone. It’s the only time when I can be myself and not feel like absolute crap.
These people all hate me. They don’t give a shit about me. They don’t understand how hard it is for me to just act like them. To just interact so easily.
Why can’t I have friends? Is it really too much to ask? I just want one friend. One measly friend. I’d like a boyfriend too but that’s asking way too much.
I’ll never have a boyfriend. Guys won’t look at me twice. As soon as they try and talk to me, I panic. My heart starts hammering, my face heats up, and the most I can get out is a few words. Then afterwards I replay it over and over and over again and beat myself up over it. I’m a complete socially inept mess.
I grab my journal and I start writing feverishly as my emotions overwhelm me and flood down onto the paper.
--
Journal Entry #1
It’s just one of those times again when I know that I'm going to live alone. I'm not going to amount to anything. It's perfectly clear. I’ll never have friends ever. It's just not in my cards. I'm not a friends type of person, I can’t handle it. If I can't get something as simple as friends there's no way I'll ever have a significant other. No way in hell, I'm ever going to find a guy for me. It's just not going to happen unfortunately. I mean it has to be that way for some people right? Not everyone gets a happily ever after. Not everyone’s story has some nice happy moment in them. My fairy tale is more like the Brothers’ Grimm ones instead of the Disney ones. Not everyone in the world is going to be alright some people are going to fail. It's just the way the world works. Not everyone finds someone. I can’t deal with people. It's my nature and there's no changing that, I've realized no matter how hard I try. I am who I am and that's it. Some people commit suicide because their life sucks and that's it for them. That's their happy ending. They live a tormented life and then it's all just over with. Their life is gone there was no happy ending. Unless you believe they are in a better place. Hopefully that's everyone's happy ending. I hope because each and every day it becomes more and more apparent that I'm not getting a happy ending in life.
I'm going to end up living all alone. I like to remain hopeful but it doesn't surprise or shock me when I think thoughts like this of always being alone. Most likely it's going to happen. All I can do is embrace it and try not to let it fucking bother me but it will. I know it will. And I hope it never comes to suicide but I'm not going to lie, the amount of times I’ve thought about it already leads me to believe that if things don't start looking up suicide might be the answer. It just might. I mean imagine my lonely scenario. I'm thirty-fucking-five and I've never been kissed, never had a boyfriend. I'm a fucking virgin. I live all by myself. My only purpose is to care for my elderly mother and grandmother. I mean that's it. I'm gone. You don't come back from that. Time goes by and if I don't catch up soon, I'm done for.
The only thing that always keeps me here is my over-thinking and fear. I could never actually kill myself. But I've been getting closer to the edge. I keep playing with the idea. If I got too upset one of these days, the emotion and frustration are going to take over and I fear that my mind won't stop me. My emotions will need a release and by accident I'll do it. I'll kill myself. There will be that one tiny second of "oh shit! What have I done?" and then it'll all be over. And I think that might be good though. The alternative is living knowing you're a pathetic loser who didn't even have the courage to kill yourself and only did by accident. Suffering through every day, battling every battle completely and utterly alone.
There are all those stories though where it gets better after you try to kill yourself, you meet wonderful people but that probably won't happen to me. And I'll be even more miserable until I accidentally do it again. I want to do so many things but it'll never happen. It won't. I'll always be on the edge but I'll just be hovering there miserably until something happens. Until I slip and just end it all.
I don't want to die but I can't live this life anymore. I can't. I can't be around all these people who are so happy that despite going through rough times bounce back with a smile eventually, who can have a good time despite feeling like shit. These people who lean on one another and support one another. I can't do this. I can't even be happy in the presence of people. No good times are ahead for me. Only suffering and trying to avoid the suffering just for one moment to try and find solitude with myself. I'm a fucked up freak when the only time I can half way enjoy myself is around my mom and brother or when I'm completely by myself.
I'm not fit for this social world. We don't fit right. We can never live life the way everyone else can. I've found ways to cope but they're not enough for me to enjoy this life I'm living. They're not enough and one day when I completely can't cope anymore is going to be it. I see everyone being happy and all I can think is how can I be like them and the realization hits me that I'll never be like them. Ever. I don't have it in me. I want help; I need help! But I could never ask anyone for it. How fucking pathetic! And no one can help me anyways. They'll try but it's all superficial because they think they should or because they feel sorry for you and I don't need that shit. I just need to be normal.
I secretly want someone to see that I wrote this but at the same time I'm terrified of anyone seeing one fucking sentence. I can't do this. One day at a fucking time...one day....one week...one month...one year....another year gone by and it's all the same. I go off to college it's all the same. It's always the same because it's me. I'm the fucking problem. I can handle life. I just can't.
--
I stand with the group. There are tons of people here and yet I feel so alone. I am alone. A whole crowd of people not even a couple feet away from me but I'm isolated standing alone all to myself.
I joined this group to make friends and here I am a year later and I wouldn’t call anyone my friend. Everyone’s freezing but happy as hell. Everyone’s talking and having a good time. Talking. Everyone's talking to one another. Huddling together to keep warm. Goofing around jumping from group to group. Mingling. While I'm standing here all alone waiting for it all to be over with so I can go back to the solitude of my room and cry myself to sleep. So I can feel fucking sorry for myself and wallow in my own self-pity.
Everyone's happy, having fun. People on other's shoulders, people holding hands, people hugging. Everyone's happy and having a good time and here I am surrounded by it all, completely isolated in my own bubble of loneliness. People come up to me sometimes but then I just want them to leave. As soon as the awkward silence lingers over us as my heart hammers in chest, they’re gone and here I am all alone. It's only me. The feeling wells up in me and yet my face remains neutral. When someone acknowledges my presence, I fake a smile.
I can't do this. Please let this be over with and let me go back to being truly by myself. Please let the torture stop. Please, I'm begging you. I can only handle so much. Please. Please. I can't keep this up much longer. My throat is getting sore; my eyes are about to water. Please save me. Please. I'm fucking begging you. There's too many people. They are all enjoying themselves and here I am like a fucking idiot. I'm suffering I can't do this.
Finally it all ends. Everyone's happy and says good bye to friends as they all go their separate ways while I go back to my room. Finally safe in the solitude of my own room. I cry. I let the emotions overflow me and the self-hate build up. The suicidal thoughts creep up on me but nothing comes of them as I fall to sleep, the tears drying on my pillow.
--
I was sitting alone eating my lunch as I normally do trying to stay invisible to the world and doing a pretty good job when this girl comes smiling over to my table.
“Can sit here?” she asks nicely as she sits down opposite me.
I nod.
“I’m Tess.” She says placing her hand out. I look un-surely at her before tentatively taking her hand. Then I feel stupid was I supposed to shake her hand? Yeah that’s what you do when you meet someone, it’s not weird.
She’s smiling at me and it make me uncomfortable. Why is she talking to me?
She seems so happy and I’m instantly jealous of her as she keeps talking to me. I wish I could be as upbeat and friendly as her. No matter how many times I stumble with my speech or bring the conversation to a grinding halt, she’s right there smiling and keeping it going. I leave back to my dorm conflicted.
I’m glad that I’ve met Tess. She seems so nice but I know I fucked it up. Nothing will come of it.
--
Journal Entry #2
For some strange reason Tess won’t leave me alone. There must be something wrong with her. She should see by now what an awkward socially inept mess I am by now. She doesn’t seem to care. She finds me most days at lunch and sits with me.
She can go on talking for hours. The smile never leaves her face. She always hugs me when she leaves and I really wish she wouldn’t. I hate people touching me. It’s so awkward.
I hated Tess for talking to me and ruining my solitude bubble but honestly I’m kind of happy that I’m not all alone anymore. It’s nice to have someone around.
I might even call her my friend. Maybe.
--
Journal Entry #3
Tess is the closest thing I have to a friend. She insists that she’s my friend and I vaguely push the subject away. I’ve gotten a lot more comfortable around her.
I’ve actually been able to speak in some decent sized sentences around her. Life has been looking up. I mean classes like to dump a pile of work on me but my social life doesn’t look so very bleak anymore.
I put up with her hugging me simply to not be rude but it’s not so bad now. I’m pretty much use to her happy loving attitude.
--
I was just sitting there shocked beyond belief. I had no idea what to do, what to say. There was no way in hell this was real. No way. This wasn’t happening. No.
Tess wouldn’t do this. What she was telling me didn’t happen. She would never do that. I would do that, not her.
After a hug that lasted forever, her trying to seek some comfort from me and me failing miserably to be supportive in anyway, I walked back to my dorm in a fog. My mind trying to comprehend what Tess had just told me. The thoughts consumed me and I had to write it down to get it all out of my head and make sense of this thing that didn’t make any sense at all.
--
Journal Entry #4
Tess was going to kill herself! Let that sink in for a moment. Tess!!! The happiest warmest most bubbly person that I know was going to kill herself. Like I can’t even process it right now. I’m in fucking shock. When she sat down at lunch, I barely noticed anything different. Until she got that tone to her voice and she started talking. She was trying not to cry and breakdown and I was just thinking uh oh what’s wrong. She was in the hospital and I thought she was going to say she had cancer or something for a moment and then she starts talking about mental illness. Then she goes on to say she was overdosing on overworking herself, she has chronic depression, and an eating disorder. And I was like what the fuck no way! This is Tess we’re talking about. She says she woke up one day and just didn’t want to get out of bed. She called a counselor and she was checked into the hospital. She just didn’t want to go on living. And I can’t believe it! This is Tess. The closest thing to a friend I have in this world. The person who is always there to brighten your day and make me feel important.
If I had to choose between the two of us on who would want to kill themselves more it would have been me not her. And yet here we are. I was envious of Tess she had everything. She had friends, she was so friendly, she looked kind of like me and then this happens and the reality I thought was real was suddenly shattered. Nothing is as it seems apparently.
I thank god that I’m strong enough to never get that bad or desperate. My life can’t be that bad, then. I’m pretty damn content with life. Yeah school stresses me the fuck out and I have no friends or social skills to speak of but I’m not to the point in my life where I can’t get out of bed and I just don’t want to go on living that I need to call someone. I don’t think I would be strong enough to get help once I reached the point that she did. I would have been a goner. My life isn’t that bad I would have given anything to be like Tess and now… I’m rethinking it all. My life can’t be that bad.
I hold on tightly to that little sliver of hope that things will get better and it fades sometimes but I’m clinging so desperately to it that I’ll never let go. It’ll always be in my grasp no matter how much it tries to slip sometimes. Because in the end my life’s not so bad. It’s really lonely but I’ve conditioned myself to be okay with that. I’ve adapted and learned to thrive as best I can with what I was given. And I thank god that life decided that my biggest problem in life was that I don’t have friends, that I’m not good in most social situations.
I’d rather live a lonely life where I can find my own moments of happiness than a life filled with people but can’t seem to muster any happiness for myself. Why is it that all these people that I thought were so happy aren’t? Like Tess, the most likely to brighten your day little miss sunshine, depressed? Going to kill herself? What would I do without Tess?
I know we were never really close close but the thought that she might not have been here today if the last week hadn’t gone as it did, is really scary to think about. I mean she’s graduating soon and I’ll miss her but to have never seen her again? For her to be dead, never to brighten the world with her smile and kindness again. What kind of world would that be?
I don’t know how to talk or act around her. It was hard enough before for me to have a conversation with her. Now what do I do with this information? I follow a philosophy that I act the same around people no matter what but sometimes that’s extremely not helpful. But it’s how I cope and I hope Tess’ okay with that. It doesn’t change much does it? She’s still
Tess, the one person who hasn’t given up on me because of my anxiety with social situations. I always thought that she sat down and talked to me to make me feel better and to brighten my day, I didn’t realize that it might have been because she needed me to brighten up her day. She needed me to be there for her. I fail at that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care. God this is so fucked up.