I don’t know if I need help anymore. I made a big deal about it a couple months ago, I was absolutely terrified and yet I was determined (for a time) that I needed to plunge in and get psychological help. But there are things that I’m afraid of. While I’m the type of person who likes to go based primarily on what I can see, I also am the type of person who accepts all possibilities. This means my spiritual beliefs are different from most, assuming that most people are various general religions such as Catholic, Protestant, Christian, Muslim, Jewish, etc. But I’m afraid that if I get psychological help they might brand my beliefs as part of a mental condition. I don’t like that, why is it okay to believe in a “God” but if I sit here and believe that there are ghosts or spirits or other things outside the norm, it’s proof of a mental condition. So that’s one fear. Another is that I’m scared I AM messed up, and if I am messed up and they tell me I am, then I’ll have to accept it. I’m only sick when I think I’m sick. Or I’m only sick when I think about whether I am or not. I honestly think all my “mental issues” are just me imagining things and pretending.
But that’s not the point here of this post. That was just a long tangent. What it’s really about is that I feel messed up. I feel messed up a lot lately and I just keep telling myself I’m okay, but it progressively gets harder to ignore those times when I feel like I’m not okay. I strongly think I’m not messed up, and that I don’t need to see a doctor, but there are periods of time where I just really don’t seem to be okay. Sometimes I feel so messed up that it scares me. It scares me more because I don’t understand where you draw the line between something being just pessimism and cynicism or being a mental condition that inspires those feelings. And when those times come where I feel those ways I try not to bother people with them. I don’t want to bug someone every single time I feel like crawling into a hole. Amanda deals with it enough, she gets it like once a week or once a month, something like that. Chantal deals with it from time to time too, but I’ve been better for the most part in that I don’t experience the serious bouts she saw. I try not to bug anyone else aside from those two. I don’t mind people knowing I have these episodes, but I don’t want people involved in them or knowing when I’m having them. I feel like it’d just be bothersome. And lately, I feel entirely unwanted. It’s hard to tell if I’m imagining it. I feel entirely abandoned by a lot of people. I feel like everything is so fake sometimes. It gets hard to tell what’s real. Sometimes it’s hard to tell things apart, like the strings of puppets are all just mixed around and things in my life are just getting pulled around in a play for someone’s entertainment. This is our part, this is how we shall act. Are you really my friend? You seem to avoid me. You didn’t want to give up, but it feels like you have. And You just seem to have vanished. While at the same time You just seem to have set me aside, like an old toy, to gather dust and rust. I have a feeling that’s what I am. I’m a toy for people to play with and toss aside. I’m here to play a part. I used to say that all the time, but I tried to forget about it. I remember now. I have a part in the lives of certain people. I’ve done those parts already, and now it’s time to move on. I tried to hold on, tried to break this cycle. But I’m sure of it now. This is how life is. Perform your scene. Change the set. New scene. New people. New play. Old ones gone, there scene is done. That is my life. Now is it a tragedy or a comedy? It’s funny sometimes how much I fuss over these things, so maybe it’s a comedy. But it’s tragic how unfunny the rest of it is, so perhaps it’s a tragedy. I need rest. I don’t feel okay anymore.
