W
WillowH
My brain feels like it hasn’t processed anything in years. Every time something is suppose to be emotional, my brain tries to understand it logically. My head feels so heavy.
I am able to describe what I’m feeling right now but I struggle to find the source—where is it coming from? I feel like a giant sponge, influenced by a thousand things but unable to trace back a single one. I constantly ask “Who am I?”
I am marveled how other people seem to grasp each other so easily. Somebody starts talking and everyone immediately knows where they’re going, and I’m here desperately analyzing every word trying to figure them out. My brain just isn’t capable of that.
When I talk, people say that I sound emotionless. I am often surprised when they say I sound happy, they say I sound aggressive, they turn away uncomfortably and think “did they really just say that?” It’s like I need someone else to tell me what I’m feeling, that I don’t know how I’m coming off. I have gotten into serious trouble in school for things I’ve said, but to me my words felt normal. My brain is so oblivious and I wonder if the day will come that I go to far on this thing we all call the internet.
So much avoidance. So much. Why do I avoid everything? Even when I’m safe, I still avoid. I’ve become so clingy. I resist change whenever I can, and my life has always been constant. My brain knows the anxiety relief is temporary. It’s been taught that because the trauma never goes away. So I cling to what I have and avoid taking risks. My brain uses dreams to force me to take risks, but even there it doesn’t know how it should end.
How old am I? Since when did my body look like this? How long have I been telling people about my future plans, and how long until I actually make one? Why didn’t I answer these questions so long ago?
People tell me that it’s just depression. That it’s only temporary. That I’m just in an episode of low mood. But I know now what it is. I’ve been like this for as long as I can remember, and it’s both relieving and stressful to finally know the truth. Now that I know, I will never be able to go back.
I am able to describe what I’m feeling right now but I struggle to find the source—where is it coming from? I feel like a giant sponge, influenced by a thousand things but unable to trace back a single one. I constantly ask “Who am I?”
I am marveled how other people seem to grasp each other so easily. Somebody starts talking and everyone immediately knows where they’re going, and I’m here desperately analyzing every word trying to figure them out. My brain just isn’t capable of that.
When I talk, people say that I sound emotionless. I am often surprised when they say I sound happy, they say I sound aggressive, they turn away uncomfortably and think “did they really just say that?” It’s like I need someone else to tell me what I’m feeling, that I don’t know how I’m coming off. I have gotten into serious trouble in school for things I’ve said, but to me my words felt normal. My brain is so oblivious and I wonder if the day will come that I go to far on this thing we all call the internet.
So much avoidance. So much. Why do I avoid everything? Even when I’m safe, I still avoid. I’ve become so clingy. I resist change whenever I can, and my life has always been constant. My brain knows the anxiety relief is temporary. It’s been taught that because the trauma never goes away. So I cling to what I have and avoid taking risks. My brain uses dreams to force me to take risks, but even there it doesn’t know how it should end.
How old am I? Since when did my body look like this? How long have I been telling people about my future plans, and how long until I actually make one? Why didn’t I answer these questions so long ago?
People tell me that it’s just depression. That it’s only temporary. That I’m just in an episode of low mood. But I know now what it is. I’ve been like this for as long as I can remember, and it’s both relieving and stressful to finally know the truth. Now that I know, I will never be able to go back.