I hate where I am. I don't want to be here and wish I was somewhere else so badly. I am on medication so my anxiety doesn't make me unable to eat. Every time I saw someone who I was anxious around I threw up. But on the other hand I could listen to music and see a sea of pictures and scenes. I could fantasise. I was writing a book and making lots of lore and characters. I was considerate and thought of other people and could put myself in other peoples shoes and have my mind cluttered with all the possibilities of what could go wrong and how to fix it. I was concerned about everyone else and yet felt like a good friend.
Now I can eat and work and my anxiety doesn't get in the way. But I can't do anything. I don't write anymore, my mind can't think of the things it needs to. I can't draw any inspiration from the songs I listen to, those scenes are gone. I don't imagine the fantasies anymore. I don't concern myself with my friends anymore. I don't put them first anymore. I don't worry about the important things and some of my friends really need me to be there for them. I don't do anything. Nothing holds my attention. Music, art, anime, video game, movies just all wash over me.
I missed my medication one day and it burned inside me. I know I need to be on it to live a normal life. To be able to face the things I ran away from all the time and the people I failed. But was I wrong to be so concerned? Did I over-think everything? I can't keep up any of my personal philosophies, I am failing myself even if I can now take a step forward in my life. Without this I am going to go nowhere in life. But with it I can't be the person I spent my whole life making damn sure I wanted to be.
When I am with friends all I do is sit quietly on my laptop. Hell even some of you called me out saying I am a boring shit. Was I wrong to try and be different from the hate, cheating, pathetic natures I hate so much in people. I wanted to show everyone the right attitudes to take. I talked in depth to people and gave them advice they were truly grateful for. People called me wise and I had respect even though shouldering it all was killing me inside. It was impossible to shut off the thoughts. But now it isn't a concern. Not worrying, not being anxious and not stressing is the most hypocritical thing I can do in my life.
Was I wrong or just not strong enough to go through with my own philosophies. I made my life about trying to help my friends and I failed. In order to have a life I have to give up on myself. Is that it?
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