cath55555
Addict with a Pen
- Feb 5, 2022
- 63
it's 10 past 9pm as I'm starting to type this. tonight myself and 2 other friends were supposed to spend the night at one of their houses- not an overnight trip, but an evening for fun and playing some games and stuff. I got there around 4.30pm and I left at about 8.30pm. I said my grandma had called me when I went outside for a smoke and asked me to come home as she wasn't well (I don't live with my grandma, but she's literally 2 minutes walk from my house)- when I told the 2 friends this they both went very quiet and seemed angry. I apologised about 4 times to each of them and they both gave the same response that "family comes first", but neither seemed to mean it. in fact the one whose house we were at had to let me out of the gate to theirs, as it was locked, and when I said sorry to her she didn't even say anything the first time. she just looked disgusted with me.
and here's the kicker: I was lying. not about being sorry. I really am sorry that I left, because I feel like I'm putting a strain on already difficult to navigate friendships, and I hate to think that I'm making them feel bad or uncomfortable. but I was lying. my grandma didn't call me. I went outside, smoked a cigarette, I felt like crying suddenly for no fucking reason. I went to the bathroom and cleaned my face a little in there too, and by that time anxiety and the ol' black dog of depression were so swirly in my insides that all I could think about was coming home to see my cats and sit on my own sofa.
and now I'm here. I've seen the cats. I'm sitting on my couch. and you know what? I don't feel better at all. I feel so much worse.
I want to die so badly. this is exactly how many of my high school and sixth form friendships ended- me becoming more and more ill, distant, angry, sad. I don't want to lose the friends that I have now. but I'm so sick to my stomach of myself. I wish I could click my fingers and make it so I hadn't been born. I want to cry, but the tears won't even come.
I am so exhausted of this life.
and here's the kicker: I was lying. not about being sorry. I really am sorry that I left, because I feel like I'm putting a strain on already difficult to navigate friendships, and I hate to think that I'm making them feel bad or uncomfortable. but I was lying. my grandma didn't call me. I went outside, smoked a cigarette, I felt like crying suddenly for no fucking reason. I went to the bathroom and cleaned my face a little in there too, and by that time anxiety and the ol' black dog of depression were so swirly in my insides that all I could think about was coming home to see my cats and sit on my own sofa.
and now I'm here. I've seen the cats. I'm sitting on my couch. and you know what? I don't feel better at all. I feel so much worse.
I want to die so badly. this is exactly how many of my high school and sixth form friendships ended- me becoming more and more ill, distant, angry, sad. I don't want to lose the friends that I have now. but I'm so sick to my stomach of myself. I wish I could click my fingers and make it so I hadn't been born. I want to cry, but the tears won't even come.
I am so exhausted of this life.
