So when people tell you it's better not to bottle up, it's better to talk about things, I never believe it. And it always comes back and bites me on the bum. It's not that I'm being stubborn. It's that I actually cannot bring myself to speak of my own accord. I do not know how to talk about things, or what to talk about, or where to start. I hate the idea that I'm moaning. I hate the idea that I'm inconveniencing someone whilst talking about myself because I'm so worthless. And I hate what I talk about because hearing it out loud makes it more concrete, more real and makes me sound more crazy.
Sometimes it has to be let it out though. Otherwise, these feelings build up inside, and you cannot help but find yourself immersed from the inside out in an inescapable state of sheer melancholy. You find yourself so scared that you feel this fear taking over your whole self. No longer mere butterflies fluttering tauntingly in your stomach, but flapping manically, rising up through your whole body, leaving you in a state of breathless panic. Try as you might, you cannot quell it, nor can you find a reason for this fear, which scares you even more, leaving you feeling even more frightened. You find yourself so sad, that you are launched into a hollow pit of darkness, and the harder you search, the further away you are from finding a light. Again, you cannot find a reason for this deep state of melancholy which renders you feeling so pathetic and thus even more sad. You cry over absolutely nothing, which, for someone who has learnt not to cry, is terrifying. You are losing control, again, terrifying. You have all these feeling torturing you, and yet you are empty, you are numb and just feel dead inside. You just want to be held tight, safe, and never be let go of. You want to run away, to escape from this being. You want someone to just make it better.
But you know that is not going to happen. You know you are going to have to confront it all and that is what terrifies you the most. So you keep bottling.
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