Work Text:
“(I don't understand why I am this way. Grown from violence to confusion. Threats and yells will hang around my brain for too long. They don't matter.
I lay here, feeling the temperament and pit swirling inside me. I hate that feeling.I hate everything about this and I still end up feeling it anyways. I do nothing to fix it because I don't know what is wrong.
If I do know, I can't just easily fix it. Like they say I should do. I need help. Yet they say I know what's wrong, so it'll be easy.
I acknowledge my flaws. But I feel it is a greater task to hold. To seek help is weird. I want it. I desperately want to understand or get something. But, those two just…don't understand. I look for their words and all I get is lousy suggestions, or that “I'm fine”.
I don't feel fine most of the time.
I lay here, soaking in my own worries and fears. Sleeping for days, the night is my comfort. The night is where I flourish.
But that's not ok. I miss out on things because of these stupid feelings. …Funny to say. …I sound like Sol..
I feel sick. Or lost. I can't tell which.
I do this to myself. It's my own fault.
As much as it hurts to hear. It is.
…
I don't understand anything. I don't know how to respond and feel..
I'm unsure.
The only time when I'm happy is doing stuff that makes me happy.
The only time I'll genuinely smile is if it involves anything that makes me smile.
Most of the time…it's just. Stone.
I don't know whether it's dumb to complain about something you have to fix yourself. Is it whining? I don't know.
I need more than them.
I'm just…scared.
I'm trying though.
I think. I don't feel I've progressed in any way at living. Or maybe I have and I'm just letting these thoughts blind me.
The latter.
It's hard to do basic tasks. I'm supposed to be doing these things. Know them. But when I know, I don't do them. Unless I feel the need to.
Sol reminds me of the daily.
She says I should know.
It's right.
…
I should be more talkative to people.
I should interact more.
……
I need to stop letting things bother me that are in the past.
…
Sensitive. …I'd rather be sensitive than a stone wall.
Mind says eye contact is important to conversation… but I don't like that. And besides, they don't complain. So…why does it bother it so much..?
…. Writing this….is helping. I don't know what made these emotions happen. They just do.
…I should sleep.
Signing
off this entry… (until I'm back here.. again.)”
-Resident Heart/Lune