That feeling when you know you’re not happy, yet you still freakin try hard to tell yourself you are
I’m back to my safe haven again. Haven of pretensions and optimism. Haven of things I force myself to believe in even though I know on the back of my mind that I’m lying to my own darn self.
I still know how to handle myself when I’m with others, but the load is too much when I’m on my own. It’s starting to become unbearable. It’s starting to affect my invisible wall of protection from human’s prying nature… from my own self.
I’m starting to lose my own battle.
I wrote this in my Tumblr account. I still can’t get over it.
I’m…. emotionally drained. Sometimes, I think maybe I really am bipolar. I don’t know what’s happening with me. All I know is I’m not as great as before.
I keep on forcing myself to the bright side, but in the end I still see the dark. Sometimes, it creeps to suck all the color away, leaving me sucked out empty.
Maybe I know now. Maybe all I want is to let go of the burden inside me. Maybe I want to cry again. But I’m not really a cry baby, so trying to cry would take me a whole lot more pain, the pain that I’m not gonna be able to keep anymore. That would be the extremes. That is not something I’m looking forward to.
I need to let go.
I need to learn to accept reality as it is, not accept reality with some kind of imaginable fantasy.
I need to accept the truth, and not make excuses and lies to myself.