Melancholy indeed

If anyone still remembers who I even am, I’m still here. Healthy and the likes. Since I started writing here, I shared my blog url with a few individuals that I hold very close to me. I didn’t think it would leave me feeling like this though. I mean, fuck knows if any of them actually read this. But it started as a place to empty the hate, anger, sorrow, frustration, worries and everything else before my brain overflowed with it all. Now I’m just full of anxiety, feeling the need to almost censor my own head before typing onto this page. I’ve been thinking about writing since I last did, what? Over a month ago. And just..fuck.

I’ve been noting down what I wanted to write about while I have moments to think at work, or when something dawns on me. But this dumb, crippling anxiety just wells over and keeps me holding all of this shit in. It’s exhausting. It’s worse than the feeling that got me to start writing here. Totally fucked.

Right now I’m in the sort of mood where I just swell with a mix of anger and sadness and just want to cry, but I can’t. Nirvana full blast with my eyes closed feels like all I can handle.

The problem that I think I have with sharing my innermost thoughts with people is that sometimes I don’t want to be that open with people, so vulnerable, honest even. I don’t want people to judge me. Nah that’s not it. I don’t want people that mean the most to me to be swayed by my fucked up head.

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2 thoughts on “Melancholy indeed

  1. I decided not to tell anyone about my blig so I could be completely uncensored. I did however accidentally post the web address on one of my social media sights, now I am constantly wondering who if anyone has seen it. I take it they must be people you really trust to tell them in the first place?

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