tw //
DREAMS PERSPECTIVE:
I was on the verge of breaking down into tears, I was so tired and having to put on an act on a stream was not helping.
"George, can I leave? Like, the stream?" I ask, quickly.
"What, why?"
When I don't answer, he says something again. "Are you okay?" He asks.
Oh no. It's all gonna spill out of my mouth.
"No. I'm slowly killing myself, I'm not eating, I'm not drinking anything, I'm not taking care of myself, and I'm forcing on an act. But it's just so much easier than fixing all these problems that I didn't even start but I got handed instead. And when people ask how I am I just say I'm tired because it's too hard to tell them everything thats going on because I don't wanna be a burden. I don't want people to worry about me. And all these people tell me it's gonna be okay, but easy for them to say, they're people who wanna go out and party and have a carefree, unproblematic life and I wanna stay home all day and isolate myself from everyone until they slowly forget about me because its just easier that way. The worst way is always the easier way. I've tried so hard to fight but I just wanna give up. Depression is taking over and I can't be fucked to fight anymore, it's just too hard. It's so dehumanizing. It's too hard to keep fighting, what the fuck is the point? It's never gonna get back to how it was. It's even worse when people ask me where the old me went, because man, I don't know either. I don't know how to tell my mum, the person that gave me life, that I don't want it anymore. It's so tiring to keep fighting I just wanna give up. But I don't want people to have to my find my body on the ground, lifeless. I wanna leave for good and I wish nobody would care, it would be so much easier. No worries, no cares, just gone. So so so much easier. Everything just hurts and, no, it's not gonna end. It hasn't ended. It never ended. It's never gonna end. Nothing fixes itself, nothing gets better, nothing solves itself. I bottle up all my emotions, and I know it's unhealthy, but I don't give a fuck anymore. That's the thing. It hurts really bad, but I'm used to it at this point. Everything just flops. I'm a bad person for the way I tried to kill my sadness, because I'm slowly killing myself. I'll admit it, and it sucks, because everything good that helps me slips through my hands. I never get a grasp on anything good these days. It's so fucked, I hate it here. Everything's the same; everything's shit."
"Dream..."
"What?"
"Everything gets better."
I can't believe that's all he has to say.
"You've been telling me that but nothing has."