Pitty party

As I wait for my face cream to dry up so I can put my mask back on, I realize how lonely I feel. There is absolutely no one I want to talk to or who wants to talk to me. I haven't felt this lonely in ages. I have friends and loved ones. But I keep thinking that they're just sick of me, telling the same old jokes, getting sad over the same old things, being the same old me: boring, unoriginal, depressed and anxious.
I haven't really understood how depressed I was until recently. It was the lexi episode in euphoria and as zendaya was talking about how she was looking at her life from above I felt that. And found out that it wasn't healthy? I used to make up stories in my head. I thought of myself in third person. I had this image of a life that wasn't mine but I kind of wanted to live it. It wasn't a happy story, I was always the passive, victimized damsel in distress kind of protagonist. And I don't think I made up happy endings or any kind of endings for it. I just romanticised the abuse and hardship I went through. I wanted to feel that despite everything being really fucked up, it was beautiful. I was the beautiful protagonist who everyone loved and could do no wrong. Really fucking feminist of you shirin
That and I realized that I am always consuming some kind of content. I am constantly disassociating. Like I have caught my self trying to watch two tv shows simultaneously, Just to keep my brain working at full capacity, keeping my anxieties at bay. Then I realized that I wasn't too pleasant to talk to either. I can't talk to people without zoning out. I lose my shit if I'm away from my phone and I never ever enjoy anything fully. I am almost always in pain, I get mad over stupid shit and haven't been really productive lately. Why would anyone want to be my friend anyways?

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