Empty

I feel like a shell of a human. I've spent most of the last 2 weeks in bed. At first because I was horribly sick. But then getting better felt worse because it meant I had to face getting out of bed. I'm scared of everything.

I wish everyone would disappear just I wouldn't have to deal with being around them or talking to them. I hate myself so much, I'm so ashamed. I can't stand the idea of being around people. Of having them look at me, talk to me, judge me. And even if they are not bad people, they will judge me because that is what people do.

And this disease, if you can call it that, has so much stigma attached that I know they will judge. Either they will think I'm lazy and selfish, or I'm a poor diseased person. Neither one feels okay. Would it really be better for them to know why I act this way - so they could feel sorry for me instead of just assuming I'm not trying hard enough?

I want understanding and I suppose part of that would be sympathy. But if I was them (on the outside; having never experienced it myself) I wouldn't just sympathize. I would pity. And I don't want to be pitied. That might be better than harsh criticism I suppose, but it wouldn't feel much better.

I want to die. I want everyone around me to die, so I don't need to worry about "leaving" them. I want to disappear but not feel guilty.

What do they want from me, I wonder. People I barely know would just rather not know about my problems. They do not want the discomfort, the awkwardness of having to figure out how to respond. I could satisfy them by simply not being around. Disappearing, but not in any obvious way that impacted their life. Just slowly fade away like an old memory.

With those who love me it is more complicated. They want me to be around, help them when they need it. They want me to be happy, or at least content. Happy enough that they don't need to worry about me. Safe, secure, again for the same reason. But what if I can't do that? What if I can never be okay?

Is it fair to them - is it really better to stay here and have my pain hurt them? Wouldn't it be better if I just went away? Then they could give up worrying about what will happen to me, how I will take care of myself. They would be sad, think it was a tragedy. But really they are not happy now. Maybe grief over a loved one lost would be better than never ending fear, disappointment, frustration that comes from watching someone you care about crawling through life, never really getting anywhere. Watching all my unrealized dreams vanish one after another. Watching me struggle, watching me fall. It is it really beneficial for them that I continue to live?