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Anonymous

There’s something about being anonymous. It helps you to be more expressive. Helps you to be brave. To overcome what your anxiety about speaking out. Helps you to overcome the fear of speaking out, of being heard.

Why do we fear being heard. We can to be heard, but at the same time, we don’t want anyone to hear us because it makes us vulnerable. We live in contradictions. I live in contradictions.

I’m tired.
I’m anxious.
I’m depressed.

I am not those things. I just have those things.

I’m tired of being tired.
I’m tired of being on edge. Always hiding. Always wanting to impress. Always wanting to do everything, more than what I know I can handle. And then doing none of them.

Sometimes I’m inclined to make social posts regarding how I feel, but it’s only perceived as being “attention seeking” and “fake.” Or a range of other things, really. Maybe people will pity me. Maybe they will relate. I don’t want people to pity me. I’m brave. I’m stronger than that.

I don’t let people in. It’s just become who I am now. I fear talking to people.
I fear what their response will be. How soon will they respond? In this era of immediacy, I fear that if I don’t get a response soon enough, or know something soon enough, everything is going to collapse.

I’m at loss for motivation. I can’t seem to get anything done.
I don’t even know when I like someone.
Always looking for something. For someone.
I want to be satisfied. To be content with what I have. What I have is a lot, and it is good. I hate not feeling content with myself. It’s my problem.
I want to feel content. Happy. Satisfied with whoever I’m with. But I never am.
It’s always a question of “what if”

I fear losing out.

So much fear of everything. Of all situations, scenarios.
It drives me depressed.
Anxious.
Fidgety.

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