I Don't Deserve The Things I Want

I don't think I've ever met someone who feels the kind of bone deep soulless depression I've felt for most of my life. I'm not saying they don't exist, I'm just saying part of me wishes there were someone I could talk to who actually understands how I'm feeling.

But that's selfish of me, right?

I wouldn't wish this on anyone

Ok y'all I admit that some situations are my fault and I did it to myself. Self sabotage goes crazy because I low-key don't think I deserve nice things.

People underestimate how much it fucks you up to be subtly excluded as a kid. I would try to talk to my classmates and be met with disinterest or annoyance. The one friend I had, who I clung to and nodded along to his every word, had other friends he liked just as much or more. And his other friends didn’t care for me at all.

I look back at pictures from the time and see how separated I was from them. I remember knowing I was different. I remember posing questions about the world to the girls playing next to me and realizing that they had never asked the same ones to themselves. That the ways we thought couldn’t be more different.

I kept myself amused with my own fanatical stories and musings in my head. I would wander the playground on a circular path, imagining a friend and being sorely disappointed when it didn’t feel as real as I’d hoped.

There was a bubble separating me from everyone else, thin, and nearly invisible, but with a pearly sheen you could catch under the right conditions. I knew it was there, they knew it was there, and it changed me

today my mother called me crazy