Admitting that you are sad is worse than the actual feeling itself. At least for me. I’ve always had a hard time accepting that I am sad. I’m good with being alone, but sometimes you just end up thinking, “Am I depressed?”
I don’t think I am. I may be wrong. I don’t have anything to be sad. I mean I have issues with my grown up life, but none of them warrants this kind of attention.
But I am sad WordPress. The saddest part is, you’re the first one to know. I feel, since the start of this blog, you’re the only person(?) I can turn to. So maybe the saddest part is, you’re the only one to know.
I don’t like assessing my life. Being back in my parents house? Not having a social life? Constantly wishing I were somewhere else? Ugh! Who wants to dissect that?
I am not posting because I want you guys to feel sorry for me. Actually, one of the reasons I don’t want to admit to being sad is to avoid the “awwww” and the hugs and the teary eyed looks of sympathy. But right now, that is what I need and want. A hug.
Ugh. I hate myself for saying that. But there it is WordPress. I’m baring my soul to you.
I am so sad, I can’t even finish my croissant. Send help.