Not entirely sure if people even read these things or if it has become more of an internet-based journal. Regardless of the matter, there is some sort of weird comfort in writing these things.
it is 1:42 am and although I have work tomorrow at an ungodly hour for an even more ungodly length of time, I feel compelled to just write a quick update about my mental health situation.
School is literally done in a matter of weeks and then I am free to embrace summer. Even so, I still find this unshakable feeling that I am ever more alone and always sad. In addition, there is this constant feeling of pressure (not just from family and friends) but more of a physical type pressure. You know that feeling when someone is blowing up a balloon and it keeps getting bigger and bigger and you are just waiting for it to pop and you feel nothing but fear and anticipation of just wanting it to be over?
Yeah. That exact feeling but always.
I find that the option to just “deal with it” has been something that has been looming over me for the past 6 years of experiencing it. That being said- nothing seems to work. It is not like I have completely lay dormant in my own self-pity while additionally wallowing. No. I have genuinely tried to find some sort of solution to my “predicament” yet they all seem incredibly temporary.
Maybe that is okay though. Maybe this is not something that I am supposed to “fix”.
Nevertheless, it is late, I am far from tired and I need to try and sleep.
In a more calm state than I began writing this, I leave you,