So this is why they say that sitting home alone is not good for mental health…

So I’m sitting here and I have a lot of stuff going through my mind. A lot of stress, and thoughts of The Writer come through my mind. Then whenever I speak to the (ex-)dahling, those ever-so-familiar feelings and thoughts and all else comes into play.

Damn, I’m fucking lonely.

I can’t even say that I have my friends, because while I do, I don’t see them as often anymore. I went from seeing them every day to every couple of weeks if I’m lucky. But even going deeper than that…just talking to the ex (who I can safely say is the only ex so far that I don’t mind talking to on a regular basis) makes it 10 times worse. I miss affection. The romantic in me is pretty starved. And I have very little distraction right now, because even if I try to distract myself (hell, I got distracted by thoughts typing this damn thing), something gets in the way. I’m frustrated, and I guess that’s what it boils down to.

I’m fucking lonely.

And I can’t even tell my family a damn thing. They don’t understand a damn thing 95% of the time. This is where the antihero comes out–they tell me to do this and that their way, and fine and dandy, I’ll do this and that…my way, and they’re not very fond of it. I’m the complete opposite of everyone in my family, but yet I’m being forced to be taught the same way my sisters were. “Oh you’ll find someone…” Chyeah, hopefully before I’m not shriveled up and on my deathbed.

I have friends, I have family…there’s something missing…I want to be held and fall asleep in someone’s arms. I thought I had that. Apparently not. I can only hope it won’t take another 4 years before I find it.

So this is why they say that being alone is not good for mental health. Or it could mean that it’s time to take my medication. *rolls eyes*