Tag Archives: myself


For all of you who just can’t seem to comprehend it and are often too quick to judge. Let me simplify and explain.

I don’t reach out to people. I’m terrified of talking on the phone and starting conversations with strangers. I’m even scared of texting certain friends and coming on too strong, of graduating from a concerned friend to an annoying nuisance. So I leave messages unread. I wait too long to answer back. I don’t want to let on that I care too much or make people think that I’m needy.

But I care more than anyone realizes. I care so much it hurts.

I come across as a snob, because I find it hard to talk, and hard to force a smile. But I’m not trying to be a bitch. I’m only trying to survive, because, to me, social interaction is a war zone. It makes my cheeks redden, my lungs flutter and my mind freeze.

That’s why I don’t always look people in the eye as they’re talking to me or why I tend to fiddle with the closest thing within my grasp. I look at their face, at the wall behind them, I might even glance down at my phone or twiddle my fingers. It makes me seem like I don’t give a damn about what they have to say, but avoiding their gaze and fiddling with something is just a crutch. I’m paying closer attention than they can imagine. Absorbing every word.

I’m not a good conversationalist and it makes me seem like a shitty friend. I don’t jump into conversations. I’m quiet in groups. People assume that I’m sitting there, judging them for every word that pops out of their lips when really I’m in awe of how easily they can communicate. How natural it is for them. How human they are and how fucked up I am.

Of course, they don’t realize that I have anxiety. They just think I’m quiet. Shy. No, they don’t see I have anxiety, because I’m not shaking at the table, hyperventilating into a paper bag or bawling my eyes out. My meltdowns happen before I see them.

The night before, on my drive there, in the car, I’m freaking out the entire time. Imagining all of the things that could go wrong. Picturing how embarrassed I’ll be. But when I’m finally in public, I internalize everything. I try to minimize my physical symptoms to avoid drawing attention to myself, but just because I calmed my shaking doesn’t mean I’ve calmed my mind.

I’m still anxious. I’m just not showing it. Secretly, I’m freaking out over what I look like. Freaking out over what to say next. Freaking out over why someone across the room gave me a strange look. And if I need to compose myself, I’ll escape to the bathroom and heavy breathe inside of a stall or take a drink, and then walk back into the room like I’m perfectly fine.

But I’m not fine. Anxiety makes sure I’m never fine. It makes me hate myself. It makes me turn down opportunities that I know I’d enjoy. It makes me stay quiet when I have something important to say. It makes me look like a complete asshole.

But that’s not true at all. I’m just someone that’s trying to get through the day. Someone that wants to be liked, but feels like they’ll never belong.




You got me through some of the toughest times in my life. You made me rethink and question my actions. You let me get lost in the moment and feel things I never thought I would. You listened and understood when no one else did. You let my imagination run wild and put me at ease. You picked me up when I couldn’t even bring myself to get off of my bed room floor. You expressed all that I couldn’t even bring to words. You let all the pain and tears come to life and quenched the hurtful fires within myself. You’ve been the only one who has always been there, and you will always be the only one who will continue to do so. You protected me from the world… but most of all… you saved me from myself. Music is such a big part of my life, and without it… I really don’t know who or where I would be to this day.

Fed Up…

Do I really have to please absolutely everyone?? Why can’t I just do what I want without everyone getting mad at me or trying to make me feel bad?? Just fucking leave me alone and get out of my face already. Fuck. I wasn’t put here to make you happy and to do what only you want… who knew it was too much to ask for to try and make myself happy and to have time to myself to sort my OWN shit out. And this is why I always fucking hated people, get your head out of your asses and stop being so god damn self absorbed. All I ever did my whole life was put everyone else first, I always made them happy, and the few times where I do something for myself everyone gets angry and tries to make me feel bad. Who knew I was committing a crime by trying to make myself happy. I thought I deserved better… apparently not. Though you even said so yourself. I can’t breathe… I’m fucking suffocating here… so just stop… fucking stop and leave me alone. For once in my life… could I just have people love and support what I want and do instead of getting mad and trying to make me feel bad or stupid?? Fuck, just shut up, get out of my face and leave me alone already. Not everything is always about you.

The Down Low


I’m complicated. I’m stubborn. I’m difficult. And yes, I get depressed from time to time. I get scared, I get nervous, I’m not perfect, in fact, I’m far from it. I won’t always say what’s on my mind or tell you how I feel. A lot of the time I’ll push myself away, especially when the feelings get too familiar. I fell and picked myself back up again with even more scars than before. I don’t believe or trust many people… if anyone at all. You’ll never know what has happened to me unless I feel like I have to tell you, and because of that the majority of people don’t understand me at all and judge all too often. I’m mysterious and impossible to figure out. I don’t always have something to say, and sometimes I just enjoy the silence. I’m quiet by default and can sometimes take a while when it comes to opening up. I’m fragile and delicate, and at times my feelings, thoughts and emotions get the best of me. Sometimes I need to be reassured a lot and a lot of the time I hesitate. I like to be told how much I mean to someone, and showed that I’m loved. And if you can’t deal with any of this, let alone handle such simple wishes and faults… well then don’t even bother talking to me… I don’t want to hear it because obviously you don’t deserve to see the best of me and you’re clearly a waste of my time.