brain puke

I'd appreciate some honesty once in a while.
Really, I don't understand how people can just sit there, pretend to care about you, and then lie to you. If you care about me, fucking tell me the truth.
It isn't fair, really. I've been told more times than I'd like to count in my life that I am naive and it's really getting to me now. I've been living so blindly, believing in the goodness of people and realizing that that isn't how life works, that you can't just be peachy keen all the time and expect others to follow because it just wont work.
That's probably why I'm so fucked up right now, so dead set on changing the world one emotion at a time, one care at a time, one fucking person at a time. For what? For suicide attempts and prescription pills and days that melt into one, sleepless nights?
I think I was more happier being miserable, more happier just wallowing deep inside myself and just being ALONE. All those nights I spent working, coming home and watching movies, not going out, not talking to anyone, looking like a fucking zombie.. those were MY days, MY comfort, and you can't even BEGIN to understand what goes on inside my head.

And for a couple of months, just a couple of fucking months I find some happiness, some innocence, and I feel carefree. I feel on top of the fucking world and I just want people to understand that it means so much to me, the fact that I haven't been happy in a very very very very VERY long time, the fact that Windsor has literally saved my life.

There's a reason I can't be with the people I was once before. You don't understand what it feels like to lock yourself up inside your room and try to bleed to fucking death, to hate yourself SO MUCH that you don't even want to exist anymore, to constantly fight with yourself and be driven by anxiety and constant fear and paranoia. Especially when your surroundings played a huge role in it.

Do you know why I keep busy every day? Because I can't stand to be alone with my head. I just can't fucking do it. I wait for these drugs to kick in and I feel like actually doing something, being somewhere, FEELING something greater than myself.
It's a constant battle, enjoying and despising the depression at the same time really tears you in two. Especially since it's been going on for almost 10 years.

I don't know, maybe I just can't stay in one place for too long. I'm okay now, I feel okay, I don't know what the point of this was even but I have a headache and a need to vent so here it is. I will leave well enough alone if you just tell me to, so I don't have to wonder what the hell I'm doing wrong.