Dear diary,

I’m sorry I’m writing to you again. I knew I promised I’d grow out of it and i promised I’d talk to people but I somehow can’t get myself to. My heart is beating so fast. Something’s gone very wrong with me this time, and it’s all my fault. Like always, I feel alone again. But it’s different this time. Someone could cut me open and enter my skin and I’d feel distant. They could pour themselves into my heart and I’d still feel unloved. They could paint my brain with happiness and I’d still find a way to be gloomy. Is this normal? Sometimes I feel like I live my life in third person. Everything I do is so strange and unfamiliar to me. It’s like I’m watching myself from someone else’s eyes, and their vision is monochrome filtered. How do I stop this? I recite my deepest most vulnerable thoughts to myself in the shower and forget them by the time I’m in my clothes. It breaks my heart to know that there are sentences I’ve said I’ll only ever hear once in my life. I’m starting to feel like the background character in my own story, I’m not too sure I like that. How do I stop this? Some days I can feel my heart sinking to my stomach, it’s happening right now too. My lungs feel rusted. My head feels worn out and my skin feels foreign. I don’t know how long it is till my third person story of a life starts to feel mine. I just hope that when it does, it’s nicer than it looks like from the outside.

Love,

Me

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