Tears and frustration

Guilt. Hot, bubbling; in the pit of the stomach. Self-loathing. So great that it disgusts you to stay alone in a room without any distraction. Weakness. So confusing that you cannot differentiate between between what needs to be shared and what you should handle yourself. You try holding it all in, and end up spilling all. It’s like trying to hold water in your fist without letting a single drop fall. You are bound to fail. And then feel inadequate and dream of the courage that suicide requires.

Of all the things in the world, bringing a sudden change in your nature, in your personality, in who you are tops the list of the most difficult things to do. The pitiful part is that you promise yourself every time that you will not speak of it, and then you want to. You think it will help. Maybe it even does. But you’ll never know for sure, because the guilt and self-loathing after is so much that all you want to do is run away from yourself. You want to change from someone dependent to someone independent, but instead you succeed in transforming yourself into the person with whom nobody can share things with, but you end up telling everything.

And you’re the person who will never be anyone’s confidant again.

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