I don’t feel like writing, but i know crying alone in a dark room won’t do me good, and if I let myself sink as low as I am sinking right now, it’s going to take me months to stand back up.
My aunt told me it’s not okay to be weak, but it’s okay to cry if that what makes me feel better, and i can’t stop crying.
Why do I feel like this is my fault? Why do I feel this overburdened responsibility that I’m the cause of eternal misery, and that I won’t, nor anyone around me, find happiness anymore?
I’m thinking of what would’ve been my upcoming weeks; we had so many things planned and set out. We were going to have two gorgeous getaways, and new years eve is in three days, and I’m going to spend it alone in a dark empty room.
Well this sums up 2020, I guess. Saying goodbye to 2020 alone in my room, and I would’ve probably be worse by then because that’s what it is I guess, that’s 2020 for you.
I think if this is true, I would probably have seen everything in this hellbent year, my mental health would’ve been tested in the most awful ways and I’m not sure how much I can polish back from it.
For tonight, I think I’ll go back to watching Friends and hoping all of this goes away in the morning.
I’ll try to keep on writing to feel sane, or maybe finish posts I’ve already began writing, I hope I can commit to this.
I hope my head stops hurting, and my tears dry by tomorrow.