I don’t know what happiness is anymore, I caught myself googling what a happy marriage is supposed to feel like because I can’t tell if this is it or not. I don’t trust myself enough to know.
I feel broken. Like whatever is wrong with me doesn’t have a fix. I can’t make decisions because I don’t trust my feelings, and honestly I don’t even know if I have feelings anymore. I don’t know what’s normal or sad or miserable or love. I can’t name emotions. Most of the time I can’t feel anything at all.
Except rage. Rage is the only thing that’s always there. It’s been there for as long as I can remember. I’m angry at myself, at the people I love, at the life I wanted, at the job I wanted, at everything. It’s just constant.
I don’t think I have empathy anymore. I listen when people talk but I don’t care. I don’t miss people I lost, even the ones who died. And that makes me angry at them too, which makes me hate myself even more.
I hate everything about me. I hate how I see myself. I hate how my mind twists everything and makes everything feel wrong. I hate the way I exist. I hate all of it.
I can’t sleep. I can’t get out of bed. I can’t talk to anyone without screaming inside because everything I say feels fake











