Perks of Being a Wallflower

"It's kind of like when you look at yourself in the mirror and you say your name. And it gets to a point where none of it seems real. Well, sometimes, I can do that, but I don't need an hour in front of a mirror. It just happens very fast, and things start to slip away. And I just open my eyes, and I see nothing. And then I start to breathe really hard trying to see something, but I can't. It doesn't happen all the time, but when it does, it scares me."

I decided, perhaps my better judgment, to read this book two days ago. I read until I got a headache and cried, slept, and woke up and finished it. It's such a sad book. I also identify with it a lot. Charlie is the ultimate outsider - his position of reflection is one I take many times throughout my life. And when I do go active, it always hurts.

It's also probably one of the best representations of the kind of depression I get. Though I've never blacked out from depression, Iwill lose all color in the world. I will look for love and cannot see it. Right now, I don't feel much of anything towards anything except sadness and bleakness. And I don't know what to do with it.

Part of me wants to talk to B (my new ex) but I know that it isn't going to help. I want him to say it'll be all better and to baby me. But it's not his job - he dumped me, right? Even if it wasn't me, even if he still wants to be friends, I'm still not worth it to ask to be taken care of.

The other part of me just wants to cry some more. But I can't. I've had a headache on and off for two weeks. That's not good. Perhaps it was my massage last week, but I think it's my face tensing up and locked because I won't cry anymore. I want to. I want it out.

I am sick of my constructed subjectivity. Sadly, it requires time to change it.

I'm sitting in bed, thinking about what to do. I want to email B. I want to talk to strangers who might give me the love I crazy but don't think I deserve. I want to pass out and not have to do anything tomorrow. I would like to feel happy again, but it hurts so bad right now. Everything is a pain. Even waking up takes all my might to decide that, yes, I want to see what the day will bring. Moreso, I want to be able to talk about this with someone. To cry and be held and feel safe and loved again. But I don't know if I'm ready for it.