Conditionally Loved in Unafraid

Nothing’s wrong.
But everything is.

That tight feeling you get in your chest. No, your shirt isn’t too small. No, it’s not an asthma attack. But it’s there. Constricting. Suffocating.

Your head’s above the water, but you’re still drowning.

Why do the happy moments give you a minute of joy, but the painful moments give you years of sleepless nights?

Tonight is one of those nights.

I’m out of the fire. Our relationship is over. There’s nothing to panic about. Any problems that I have are miniscule. Easily fixable. Am I exactly in the place I want to be right now? No. Not geographically, not financially, not mentally. But it’s fine! I can fix those things! I can make changes for the better. I still have time.

… Then why does it feel like the world is going to end at any moment?

The only love left is the conditional kind. “Do this, do that. Say this, don’t say that. Don’t wear this, don’t act like that. DO WHAT I SAY OR I WILL HURT YOU.”

For as many people as I’ve met… For as many places as I’ve seen… I’ve never tasted unconditional love.

I can’t remember the last day I didn’t get high. A distraction, a coping mechanism. Healthy? In more ways than one: probably not. But if I stop I will most likely hurt myself. So I keep on.

Loneliness is a bitch. It’s even worse when you have friends. I have friends. I like my friends. My friends seem to like me, for the most part.

I don’t like talking to them about my feelings.

Somebody told me awhile ago about how some dude she worked with was just unloading all this emotional baggage on her during their workday and basically he was using his coworker as a free therapist.

Then I started wondering if maybe that’s how my friends think of me whenever I tell them about my day or any problems that I have.

So now I don’t talk to my friends about stuff like that anymore. It’s not right to unload that shit on them. I’ll just keep it to myself.

I’ve gotten fairly good at keeping things to myself over the years.

I read my old entries from when I was still practically a kid.

I miss that life.