2017-05-17 - 11:24 p.m.
Jack's After Thoughts On His Paranoid Insecurity
Like any other panic attack, this is coming over me in waves.
Just when I thought it was over and I had come down, another wave hits me and smashes all over the shore like broken glass.
It's just sea glass I tell myself. There are no sharp edges. If you were brave enough to pick it up and hold it in your hands, you would see that.
It's all in your head.
It's just your paranoia acting up again.
Or is it?
Sometimes you just know things. Sometimes you only think you know.
Sometimes you don't know the difference.
You can not trust yourself or anyone else.
You realize you don't know shit. You have no idea. Just like you always say they have no idea. And you are so scared and freaked out.
Maybe this is a taste of your own medicine.
After I had written through my last attack, I realized something.
It really does work both ways.
This is exactly how my closest friends feel about me. That I am always right on the edge of leaving them. Because sometimes it's true.
They never put it out of their heads for even a second that I could kill myself.
Especially with what a two faced piece of shit I can be.
Smiling and walking around with an invisible gun to my head. Hiding a knife up my sleeve or maybe just its kisses.
My gaping internal wounds are secretly smiling even as they are bleeding all over everything.
But as far as the eye can see, everything is fine. Just great. Fucking terrific.
My old roomate/bestfriend always does these wellness calls on me. Even when things really are okay, she will randomly ask me if I am suicidal. When I say no, she does not always believe me. Yeah I get it. I deserve it.
My sister always tells me not to kill myself.
They both have horrible nightmares all the time about me doing it.
They live in constant fear of losing me.
Sometimes they call me crying just to hear my voice.
It really does make me feel like a horrible person scaring them like that. But as much as I feel like a piece of emo shit, I never really made the connection.
They are just as scared of losing me. Maybe even more.
I should be feeling loved, not even more horrible.
But I do.
Sometimes in the morning I am Jack's Waking Shame.
I just wake up feeling bad. Like a bad person.
First I think it is guilt, but when I check, my conscience is reasonably clean. Sometimes after I wrote something intense I have a bit of writer's remorse but not true regret.
What did I do that is so bad?
Then I realize it is ME in general that's wrong.
When you are guilty, you did something wrong.
When you have shame, you are wrong.
I realize I walk around living under the constant belief that I am bad. I am a bad person.
I am a bad person and I will lose everyone I love. They will punish me by taking away their love and leaving me. It will be my own stupid fault, that somehow I couldn't help.
People can tell me the most sincere, kind things and I believe them but still fear I am a bad person and will lose them.
I can even think of good things about myself, but nothing exonerates me.
Maybe this paranoia is more about me. This is about me not trusting me. Not you.
The fear of fucking up and losing everyone and everything.
The more I love someone, the more insecure in myself I become.
It should not be that way.
But I don't know how to love without fear.
Jack And His Psycho Shit - 2017-06-26
Jack Lets Down Some Of His Silent Charade (2) - 2017-06-25
Jack Lets Down Some Of His Silent Charade - 2017-06-25
Jack Is Never Okay - 2017-06-16