Bloody_Free

There are so many buttons that hope to be pressed. Choices, yearning to be made. And it is this that consumes me. It isn’t fear, but anger, that I’m constantly making the wrong choices. I’m young, and an abundance of choices will surely frolic close by and keep me company soon enough. But right now, I’m not sure what I’m doing. Even in writing this, I find that I’m carrying along with me a sense of ambivalence and apprehension. I feel encased in this barrier that’s been put forward by my dad. A thick sheet of glass with eroding edges and a label that suggests “protection”. Confinement. I’m confined from everyone, to the point that I feel like my relationships aren’t worth striving for, or that there isn’t enough emotional investment being put forward, or that they’re completely superficial. I don’t know who to talk to anymore, or if I should even consider the term “friendship” or “companionship”, as something I should be striving towards, when I can’t even get the concept right with my family. I hate seeming melodramatic. But these inner conflicts are relentlessly discussing who I should choose to trust, and they can never seem to come to a conclusion. I can’t stand being around anyone, because I feel like it’s all so superficial, fake. But at the same time, I can’t stand being alone with myself. I just can’t handle the stress of being alone. I’m tired of my family, I’m tired of thinking that my friends are only in it for themselves, and I’m just so bloody sick of being me.