It’s nearly 1:30am and I can’t seem to sleep or even understand what it is I want to write about. All I’m sure of is that I am clustered, I feel like a drawer that can’t seem to shut because it has bunched up clothes. The first time I decided to do something to help myself was the first appointment I had with my therapist. I went because I didn’t understand my feelings sometimes and if nothing was wrong well at least I could prevent the “what if” situations in my brain. I really didn’t think something was off about me but talking with someone made me feel better. Until my therapist told me that it would be best if we had once a month meetings, he expressed I had anxiety and early depression. Part of me felt relief knowing someone understood me and that I myself knew the answer to my feelings. This isn’t a sad story nor a happy one it’s just me writing late at night. My mind is just so exhausted I needed to find a way to express it. I’m so tired, I’m tired of being me, of this feeling I can’t put into words. I’m so tough on myself that sometimes I prevent myself from crying and it numbs me into being a stronger person. If you’ve made it this far thank you,
All I want is to find peace in my thoughts and actions.