I've been feeling terribly disconnected from the people in my life. It would be so easy to disappear from the margins of theirs... It's hard to feel as if you don't matter to anyone, and to have that seemingly proven, time and time again. It took over a month for anyone to notice anything was amiss. That hurts. That's plenty of time to die in. I've been withdrawing and pulling away, retreating further and further into myself- and watching with glum eyes as I just slip into the background, a forgotten bit piece- how inconvenient my hurt is, how unwieldy: how everyone just expects that I'll figure it out on my own, that I'll pick myself up again. I'm tired of it. I don't want to, anymore. I'm sick and tired of trying, for people who are wildly indifferent, who choose to do things that hurt me: how can you remain friends with the people who drove me to the brink of suicide, during one of the most traumatic periods of my life? Am I worth that little to you? And that hurts, too. To not be considered, to not be thought of- for it to be an afterthought so easily brushed away. I've been grappling with just leaving it all behind me: of cutting off everyone, and plunging deeply into self isolation: at least for the next few years, to focus solely on my studies. I think I'd feel empty, hollow- but maybe that's better to do that and have a degree in hand, than dealing with the excruciating loneliness of being gone when you're still there.