A moment (of inspiration)

One

     Silence. Pain. Anger. Panic.

     The cold breeze of the early AMs of November filled the air, I could feel it affecting my limbs already.

     My eyes snapped open, awoken by another one of those nightmares. I could feel a burning sensation on my forearm, but I ignored it anyway. I got up and turned on the light. I felt the need to call out to mother, but at the same moment I reminded myself that she's not there anymore. That I was completely alone in this apartment that belonged to a cold, cruel, strange city. Thoughts from the night before rushed back to flood my mind.

     I hate them. I hate them all.

     Why was it that whenever I felt like I was finally starting to fit in and make friends, someone came and ruined it for me?

     I hate this. I hate this. I fucking hate this.

     Nobody even tried to understand, all they did was blame me. They all claimed that it was me who acted unfriendly, that it was me who didn't want anyone to come near me.

     But was it actually happening?

     Are they really the ones trying to 'ruin' things for you? It sounds just like you're ruining it for yourself. No one hurt you, so why are you blaming the world for your twisted attitude?

     Because most of the time it felt like it was all in my head.

     Avoidant personality disorder. Avoidant personality disorder. Avoidant personality disorder.

     Is it a real thing? Do I actually trust the internet with this?

     My mind was racing. I was getting overwhelmed by everything that was happening. I've been trying. I waved at people and smiled at them. I started forcing myself to say hi and get to know strangers. I thought I was just introverted and that all I needed was to get over my shyness. At first it felt like it was helping, but as soon as I had time to think again, it all felt like I didn't belong anywhere. It all felt like I just wanted to stay home forever. Apparently, that's not how "being shy" feels to other people.

     It was just last night that I read about AvPD, and the way its symptoms resembled my feelings and thoughts was awful. I had no idea that there was such a thing as "personality disorders" to begin with. Knowing that there was a large possibility that I carried one with me felt like a heavy weight on my chest, a weight that was starting to become a part of me... I really feared that at some point, I might have to carry it around forever.

     I thought about finding a therapist, but then I remembered how horrible it turned out last time. I never believed in therapists, no matter how much people claimed that they could help. Therapy could never help me. Antidepressants were only temporary. The only person who helped me out through everything, up until this moment, was myself.

     My problem wasn't with having people around actually, I was fine with people as long as I knew them. However, I found it really difficult to cope around the people I barely knew, and I found it impossible to cope around people that I didn't know.

     I sighed as I tried to push away these thoughts. I wished I could change things, but I seemingly had little to no power over it. I couldn't help feeling inferior and unwanted whenever I was near a group of people, so it wouldn't have been a nice idea to go out. I started looking at my bookshelf, trying to find something interesting to read. However, I couldn't stop thinking about it.

     Is that disorder actually a thing? Or am I just socially inept?

     I hated how everything was so complicated for me. For me, I hated always sounding weak and awkward. I hated how I struggled to make my way through a crowded place, and how I stood there for at least five minutes every time I was trying to cross the road.

     I couldn't ignore the fact that during all of this, I have left a lot of people hurt and confused because of my weird attitude. I didn't like the current me, the one who never approached anyone unless they did it first. I knew for sure that I was missing out on a lot of friendships that I could have formed, and even more people that I would have liked to simply listen to.

     People were cute, I found them very entertaining to watch, to understand, and to listen to. Most of the time I didn't even feel like I was one of them, which made things even more fun for me. However, finding interesting people, people worth my "trying" was already hard enough that I never even tried, to begin with.

     Such a weirdo, you are.

     Absentmindedly, I looked down at the book in my hands. I had no idea when did I pick it out, but a small smile formed on my lips as I read the title.

     To kill a mockingbird.

     Nostalgic.

     The sound of the rain outside pierced through my thoughts, saving me from putting myself into another vortex of thoughts.

     Maybe I would be able to deal with that "disorder" thing sometime, but I decided that I was too exhausted to even try at the moment. And as much as it hurt to admit it, I was still going to wait for those curious, friendly people who appeared every once in a while and made my life better. This kind of people I was grateful for. They were my friends and family, They were every single one of the people that kept me going up to this moment.

     Hastily, I opened my book and decided to start reading and get rid of the headache that was starting to form. A moment later, I was long gone, having the time of my life in a world that was a product of Harper Lee's imagination, which I always admired greatly.

_♥_