I over think things.
I read between the lines.
Most Some of the time I’m wrong because what I read between the lines is the worst case scenario in my mind related to what was actually said.
For this reason and reason alone, I banned myself from google diagnosing whatever I was/am suffering at the time.
Upset hand flailing about how I am going to die! and how it’s all over! are only for special occasion.
This over thinking thing does the same thing with small details. If you pull your chair away from me, I log it in my brain to freak out about when I am alone.
My brain screams how digusting you find me, how much you don’t want to be there. how there is something wrong with me.
I am plagued with invisible demons.
Some are real, some are not.
But all are there to prevent the past from repeating.
Why am I telling you this?
I feel like a stretched balloon filled with sand. Only someone has poked a small hole in the balloon and all of the sand has run out.
What you are left with – a stretched out floppy balloon – is what I feel like.
Depression is kicking my ohnoes!I’m-getting-sick! arse.
On a more other note.
I’m taking a philosophy, chinese and physics this trimester.
And if I was sitting in an armchair?
I wouldn’t have to drag /that/ big bag over there all over Uni.
Though, I am prepared!
Even if a lecture doesn’t have a whiteboard marker.
I have 5.
A headache you say? I have painkillers!
This is handy.
My old glasses are giving me a headache.
Need I explain more?
(….Really, go back and read the first part of the post.)
And now? I’m going to go review and lie down with a eye mask on.