Why I Go Crazy Sometimes

People don’t listen to me. It just happens all the time. I have So Many Things to say, but no one to listen to them. So what can I do? Who can I talk to?

Myself.

I come home and I say everything I need to myself. And because I know that I don’t really count, I say it to myself over and over again. Over and over and over, and I just get stuck repeating things and thinking about wrongs and questioning everything until I don’t know what I’ll do.
That’s why The Man started coming.

Even though I know that he isn’t really there, I can pretend (and I’ve gotten Extremely good at pretending) that he’s there, listening. Of course, he isn’t a kind listener. Not at all. He feeds off of all the insecurities I have but am too afraid to say out loud. And since he’s a manifestation of my inner thoughts, he can say them to me until I believe that they’re actually happening.
The sad thing is that even though I know he’s so horrible to me, and only detrimental to my growth as a person, I just need someone to LISTEN TO ME, and I need it so badly that I’m willing to conjure up someone who makes me feel suicidal.

If I’m being honest, if I didn’t speak my thoughts out loud, I would just get stuck listening to them inside my head, where they would all swirl around together and suck me down and I might get so caught up inside myself that I wouldn’t ever speak again. Or really do anything. I’d just be trapped.

I’ve come close before, but luckily there’s usually a mirror around. And when it’s so bad, and I finally see a person who wants to listen to me, I won’t care if it’s my own reflection. I’ll just talk and talk and turn into different people before my eyes until I’m just about exhausted.

So I’ve broken myself out of myself, not exactly in a good way, but in an effective way.

Although since it’s still only been myself the entire time, I only have so long until the same exact process repeats itself over and over again. I will see that situation, I will see the person not allowing me to speak, and I will feel the injustice, the anger, the NEED TO SPEAK AND BE HEARD all over again.

And that’s why I can’t leave my room sometimes. That’s why I’m crazy.

Because I can’t speak.

I have no one to talk to.

No one.

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