The Other One

My sadness dwarfs my happiness. I don't know how to feel any other way.

My happiness is fleeting. Barely here long enough for me to cherish it.

Am I real?

...
...
...
What?

Excuse me.
What?

WHAT?

Cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat


SHE BETTER BE FUCKING OK

It's bleeding
It's bending
It's screaming
It's breaking
It's breaking
It's breaking

I don't want it anymore.

-----

What's real crazy to me is that I now realize that I am unable to cry. I hadn't noticed until now. I have been aware of the fact that I don't feel anything, but I thought maybe I was just getting better. I'm obviously a fool.

BUT I WANT TO CRY
AND I WANT TO SCREAM
AND I WANT TO BE UPSET
AND I WANT TO ACTUALLY FEEL WHAT THE FUCK I'M SUPPOSED TO BE FEELING
I'M NOT A REAL FUCKING PERSON ANYMORE

I just realized that Barney deleted me from his instagram. Like, every trace of me is gone. I took a picture of a cake and put it on there and even the fucking cake is gone. And I understand that we aren't together and I'm not hoping for us to be back together. But he ERASED me. I was so insignificant to him that he took the time to ERASE me.

And for a moment it hurt. And then it didn't. And I realize my medication is working.

Because I'm not real.

I just had a moment. I'm at work and I was fine.  I was being pleasant even. And then I walked outside, in the middle of a thunderstorm, sat on the ground and cried.

I don't know why.

In other news, my job has officially become prison. To pass time we practice our pull-ups.

We brought in a pull-up bar.

From where? I don't know that either.

There is a guy in here playing It's Always Sunny and I will never get it. That show is so stupid.

Ike is in Texas. And then he won't be in America. I'm already working this trash shift so I can barely talk to him with my 2 hours of free time during the day. And then he's gone.

My therapist says I'm using him for attention. I try to tell her that I enjoy taking to him, but what do I know? I'm not the one with the degree.

He shall be missed and I will be mostly alone again.

I get to work at 9.

"You're late."

Wha?

"Get here at 8:45."

But...ok

😒