I’m afraid. Afraid of words that are labelling me. Afraid to sleep alone. Afraid to spend the days alone. I’m afraid.

I know it’s just a word. I’m good with words. It’s a diagnosis. But it’s a diagnosis that I don’t completely understand. I’ve been digging, trying to find resources for myself and to share with others. Honestly, there’s not much out there. Did this just pop up out of nowhere? How do they even know this is me? Then I look at the symptoms again, and my past behaviors with and without medications, and realize this is me.

I’ve always been so good at being alone that it’s never bothered me before. But now, the silence is deafening. There is no joy. Only me and the shadows that come around every so often. I think it’s the silence that scares me the most. But being around people and noise is too much. I just want you, just you.

And that scares me too. I’m too dependent on you. It’s too much for you, for me to put all my fears into you. To hold me up when I’m falling apart and yet, here you are with the tape and glue. It’s too much for one person. And I’m afraid that I’m killing you or pushing you away by pulling you too close.

I just feel afraid of everything and I don’t know how to make it stop.


About Preslee

I am diagnosed with Schizoaffective disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Major Depressive Disorder, PTSD, and Anxiety. I write about my own personal experiences and life with these disorders.

Posted on January 19, 2018, in Mental Health and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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