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It would be a lie if I were to say that I was in control. I guess, really, I never have been. Not three years ago, not a year ago, and not now either. I’ve finally realised what I’ve been mising over these past two weeks, a major factor in the confusion that abounds. My emotional control. I don’t have any.
There are certain things I’m not allowed to do, and yet I’m not sure I have the control to stop myself. And I shouldn’t find human interaction irritating, so why do I? I shouldn’t find perfectly normal comments from my friends offensive, so why do they upset me? I shouldn’t complain about other people acting completely normally and I have no reason to complain, but why do I feel like I should be allowed to?
I tried to go out tonight to forget my worries, to listen to music and dance and let the melody carry my emotions away. It didn’t work, it made them worse.
I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on like this. It’s the end of the fifteenth day, now, since the world went crazy. There’s a horrible temptation to run away, but that would mean becoming a potential self that I intensely hate. So what can I do? Hold on, I guess, hope things get better. But will they? What’ll happen if they don’t, if the future continues just like this?
I get broken just about every day now, so much so that I’m on the verge of getting used to it. But each time, the call of a part of myself that I don’t show to the world gets stronger and stronger. Thoughts stir in my head, thoughts like “I hate humans” and “I’ll take the world apart piece by piece and put it back together the way I want it to be”.
I can’t let thoughts like that take over. I have to stay sane…