I found myself crying every time I got back from work these days. Either that or I fell asleep on the couch in the living room accompanied by muted silence. I miss writing here. I don't feel judged here, nor do I feel anyone's presence. I've been writing a lot on my private stories on Instagram but I often feel nobody appreciate or acknowledge my thoughts and feelings. There are people, a few of them, came to bring me comfort, but none amongst them are the closest to me. And instead I felt invalidated by a very close friend that said somewhere along the lines that I often make a big fuss about being busy. I felt hurt and it made me not want to share anything to people anymore.
Learning to allow myself to grieve, and learning to be angry and sad at things beyond my control.
Only few days left before I leave this place for good. Counting days to a new life. Scared, sick, confused, thrilled, depressed.
In an alternate universe where I got to bring my family to attend my graduation ceremony, where I got to walk on stage, and feel genuinely proud of myself for the milestones that I've achieved.
I wish I can feel things. I don't feel things anymore. I couldn't care even the slightest about anything.
Numb. They don't understand. Nor do I.
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