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I don't have a lot of friends.
I don't like a lot of people, but I seem to have made two new pals that have no problem sticking around with me.
Meet Anxiety and Depression.
While they are new, I had no doubt we would meet sooner or later. They've always lingered in the background. They're here now, and while eventually (I hope) they will fade, I must deal.
There are key points in my life that would lead to this moment; things that maybe gave me a clue or things I held onto a little too long. Recent events seem to be pivotal points: unable to catch a break, one thing after another, not happy with this life.
At least once a day, I find myself reaching out to the few people I trust in this world to save me from my own thoughts.
Thoughts that render me feeling hopeless, useless, and a waste of space. Thoughts that make me feel my heart will explode because it's beating too fast. Thoughts that make me shake from head to toe, make me want to close my eyes, make me feel like I'm going to pass out; and in some cases I might because my thoughts are that powerful.
I don't know how many different ways I can say "thoughts," mostly because I'm too lazy to look it up in a thesaurus, but I can tell you how many times my own thoughts have kept me from leaving my house. From missing out on hanging out with friends, meeting new people, enjoying life, all because I'm afraid to leave the one place where nothing can touch me. Better said, it's the one place where I can fall apart in peace.
Sometimes I feel like it won't stop. When it gets going, it's like a snowball. It starts with one small thing, and faster than I realize. It's bigger than me.
I'm an extremely proud individual. I'm resistant towards help because my entire life is filled with being told I'm stupid, and while I know I am not, I'm never given the chance to change someone's mind, so I'd rather just do it on my own.
What I've come to realize is this is something I cannot do on my own.
And while it kills me to reach out for help, I know it's for the best because while this is bigger than me, I know I can be bigger than it.
With time and patience, I can learn to manage, I can grow, and I can return to my usual self; which is what I miss the most.
I'm okay with not having a lot of friends because the real me is enough for myself. And I am okay with that.
I miss me. And I will return.