I feel quite sleepy, not exactly numb but as if I had gone to sleep and woken up in someone else’s life; or, maybe, as a different person altogether; as if this life wasn’t my own.
I’m broken, but I’ve been so for most of my life. I don’t know what’s changed; I can’t figure out how to fix it, how to fix myself.
The problem is that there’s no one else that can help. There’s no one, other than me, that knows precisely how it’s like. That makes me feel like I have to deal it on my own; that I need to keep surviving in my little island.
It makes me sad, thinking about these things; it makes me angry with myself. I want to be better, you know? I thought I just needed to be a bit thinner and have more friends, maybe be less shy or introverted… But that’s who I am. I finally figured out that, instead of all that stuff, what I could really use is self-esteem, some good old fashioned confidence. Because not being afraid of being myself and actually being proud of it is the only way I can start to properly heal my wounds until they become mere faint scars.