If I cry would you hear me out?
I’ve left this place and come back a couple, a few times, because it still remains to be a big part of where I came from. About three years ago, this was a safe haven. Albeit very small, and I made really few friends, even if I had left, it was a place I explored many things.
So it’s a little funny looking back at it and if I come back to read back on all of my things, maybe I’d ask too what happened?
This might be the only place who will truly know who I was and who I am and who I want to be. It might be the few places I have a voice, because I think it is one thing I am struggling with now. I’ll be honest, very honest, and say I don’t know if I’m getting depressed or if I have been so for a few years now; I don’t know if I have anxiety or bad cases of it sometimes. I don’t want to say I know because I haven’t met with anyone professionally, but I have somewhat, somehow
felt a little bit or often like or much like - I am suffering under the weight of something that is both within my control and my lack of it.
I write to let it out even if I don’t know if anyone will hear me. It’s okay. Maybe I am okay, just different, just struggling, but I sometimes become happy and maybe relatively I am happy. It just doesn’t mean that I’m not sad, and that I become, and have become, such a victim of loneliness I’m struggling to understand.
It just feels different, but maybe I have some wings now.