I almost reinstall
Instagram and reactivate my account to post some shit there, but I stopped
myself, thankfully. I was going to post something that goes like “post your shit
on social media is useless because nobody gives a fuck about it. But here I am,
upload pictures during my on-going mental breakdance.” but nah nah nah. I smile
for cancelling the plan and then heading here instead. I mean, I admit it, it
is still happening and I have no idea when it’ll stop. I even bought the second
book from the subtle art of not giving a fuck book which the tittle is called
everything is fucked but as one of my healing elements but I haven’t finished
reading it yet. Singing is another fun thing to do other than reading
fiction. not watching netflix, take a break.
I just wish that how
bad things can go from here, I will never do something like self-harm since suicidal
thoughts is not something new in my head, its been there for years and years
and years, I don’t even remember when I actually getting those thoughts anyway.
I keep feeling bad about myself and I’ve been feeling that again but with
something different, its bigger and darker and scarier than anything I’ve ever
encountered before. Yeah, that’s probably one of the reasons why I am still
locking myself away, other than I am not finished with myself, I also feel like
I am never good enough for anyone, if, it is a big if, if there is anyone
interested in me. I don’t have the confidence to even imagine it. To imagine I can have somebody, other than my mom, that can accept me for who I am, with this ugly appearance. I'm not actually stressing out about it, at least not at the moment. Thats pretty much all.
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