You said I should say the words in my head out loud. So here it goes.
Today when I had a few minutes to myself, I decided to stay in for dinner. As soon as the door shut behind me, I could feel that thing in my chest. That thing where it feels like my whole chest is tightening.
I paced around my apartment for a while, eating an apple. I told myself it’s because I needed the steps but really it was because I needed the energy to wear off. When I settled a bit, I turned on the tv. The noise helps. I don’t know why the noise helps.
This happens a lot. I can be alone for a minute and the feeling hits me. Sometimes I’m with people when I feel it. Sometimes it makes me shudder because I feel so uncomfortable in my own skin. Have you ever seen me shudder? I try to be subtle about it so people don’t notice me.
It hurts, you know? It makes me feel restless and tired at the same time. All I want to do is stay in bed all day, every day. But that’s frowned upon.
Sometimes I feel like I can’t be alone because the silence is pressing in on every side of me and threatening to suffocate me. So then I either try to distract myself or be with other people. Sometimes I go and sit with you or others while you’re working – not because I need anything, but because you’re safe and I need the presence of someone who is safe. And I’m really scared that you’re going to get sick of me coming to sit with you or that others will and I can’t really explain to you why I need to or want to, just that I do. And I do. But when you combine that with the fact that I always assume my friends are on the verge of leaving me… well, it’s fucking miserable.
You said I should say the words in my head out loud. But I can’t. So here they are: written for the world to see but not for anyone I know to read.