Loneliness

D_Dailywrites
2 min readFeb 13, 2021

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I feel alone. I’m not. I know I’m not, but I still feel like it.

I have been in a downward spiral, I know I am in a downward spiral. but I can’t stop it. Everyday I become less and less motivated. Therapy isn’t working.

I don’t know what to do.

I hate myself. I feel like I have accomplished nothing. Like what have I actually done? School? I’ve kept my grades up, well that's just great right, keeping my grades up in useless courses. That will surely help me in life.

I feel angry. Angry at myself, at my parents, at the world.

Why the hell am I suffering for other peoples stupidity. If people just fucking quarantined then this whole mess would be over with. I could go back to seeing my friends, go back to being a normal goddamn teenager.

There is too much anger inside. It builds up.

I have anger issues. I knew that, so I fixed it. For months I worked on shutting my mouth. Now I do, but now I bottle up stuff.

I bottle myself up.

I used to express my opinion, now I know that no one listens and my opinion means jack shit. Even in my own house.

I have also learned-according to my parents-that I don’t feel the way I feel. Apparently I just need to be motivated, I just need to be happy.

Because I haven’t tried that before.

They step into my shoes and tell me what I feeling. They don’t understand that I am not them!

I have my own feelings, my own opinions. And I respond differently to things!

I used to argue with them. Correct them. I have since learned that is useless and only leads to an argument. Now I merely shrug.

My anger rushes to my fists and they clench. My nails dig into the skin, leaving thin red lines. The blood pumps into my fists, itching for a fight. I bite my lip and close my eyes.

My whole body tenses and one thing repeats in my mind. Over and over it plays.

“Don’t say anything, don’t say anything. Just keep quiet. Don’t say anything.”

It is a constant chime for minutes. Until it finally subsides. But my fists, they remain clenched for much longer. Do they ever unclench, sure. But does my mind?

Who knows. It will clench until it snaps. Then I get screamed at to calm down. Told I am dramatic and all I ever do is argue and yell.

No one knows how much of myself I hide away, how much I know is too much so I block it from coming to light.

I have learned I am not wanted. So I cut that part from view.

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