Dear Stranger,
I have no idea how I'm going to post this out there. I'm pretty sure that no one will ever bother to read this as the internet is gigantic. But my therapist said that this would help, so I'm trying.
This is my first try. Is this even considered blogging? Haha.
I did try everything though. I tried journaling as people said that it's cathartic release is quite therapeutic in its own way. But I've spent multiple journal notebooks and none seem to work. My words seemed restricted. And my therapist said that I needed to vent out to someone. She said that if I can't tell her the things that bothers me—I, at least, needed to tell someone about it.
I don't know how I'm going to write the things that bother me here, but here goes...
I'm a 24 year old woman, part of the working class. I know that there's something wrong with me, but not in the way that most people thought to be disturbing. I'm not attempting to kill myself, nor am I self hurting. I refuse to describe myself as depressed, as I don't feel anything that would categorize me as such.
The reason why I went to a therapist is because I'm having a hard time sleeping. I'm not insomniac (I also refuse to be called as such), but I'm too awake at night. There's just so many thoughts running through my head while everyone is sleeping. Meanwhile in the morning, I'm too tired to even function properly. I'm too tired to do anything. I spend most of my free time sleeping, even at work.
I tried melatonin. Hell, I even tried taking sleeping drugs. None seem to work, and my attending physician refuses to provide me with any dosage lately. He was the one who referred me to a psychologist, thinking that my sleeping dilemma was rooted from something deeper—far more sinister than insomnia.
It's probably the crying that bothered them the most.
I told them that I spend majority of my sleepless nights crying. I can't properly explain why I'm crying though. The tears—they just came rushing along with my empty thoughts. I can't properly point out the root of all of these.
I'd like to think that I'm contented. I'm not happy, nor am I sad. It's just empty. I feel content with the way I'm living right now, but I'm not happy. It's not about the money, or the satisfaction of working. It's just that my life feels a bit empty now.
Come to think of it, my life has always been empty.
Anyway, I'll try writing for a while. I just hope no one's out there to read these.
