More time, please.


Why am I not writing? Hmm… Well, I guess there’s too much, like way too much depression to deal with. This depression is making me less expressive. I’m not expressing any of my feelings or thoughts in any way because I just don’t feel like it.It’s not in my hands…

I mean, everyday I take a pencil and sit in front of my notebook, waiting for something to flicker in my mind, so I could write. But there’s nothing. Always nothing.

And honestly, I don’t even know what this whole depression is about. All I know is that it’s turning me into a brat. I just snap at people ’cause I’m always annoyed. I don’t even know why I’m annoyed. It’s making me rude and I just don’t care. I don’t care that I’m hurting the people around me. I don’t care that I made one of my best friends cry because of my stupid attitude. I don’t care that I didn’t even mean the apologies that I gave her.

I have no idea what’s happening to me. Before, when I used to speak, it was all wise words. But now when I open my mouth to speak, it’s all anger, rudeness, and hurtful words.

I don’t know what this is. All I know is that my brain is pretty much forcing me to write this because it knows somehow, that I need to let this out, or I’ll become more of a brat. My brain is forcing me to trust someone and talk to her about this, while my heart is screaming NO at my brain.

Shouldn’t it be the other way round? It should be my heart insisting to trust someone while my brain warns me not to ’cause I might get hurt. But tight now, it’s all the opposite of how it should be. My heart is tired of trusting people… Maybe it’s scared…. But this is the absolute wrong timing for my heart to be scared, ’cause I really need to let this out. My brain realises that. It wants me to let it out. It’s even forcing me to write all of this, while my heart is sitting in a corner, annoyed at my brain for it’s stupid instinctive protective measures to keep me from losing my identity. ‘Cause that’s pretty much what’s happening.

I’m losing my identity. I’m letting all the stupid hurt get to me. I’m letting it change me. I have very little of my old self left. My brain is urging me to hold onto it and cherish it. But my heart just doesn’t care. That’s what the problem is, isn’t it? That my heart has stopped caring. It doesn’t care about hurting people anymore. It doesn’t car about letting go of my good self. It doesn’t care about what my brain is telling it to do.




I had written this a while ago, when I was facing internal conflicts… It’s over, now. Alhamdulillah. I’m just posting this to give myself more time to come up with something to write. It’s still a little hard for me to get an idea on what to write. But well, I’m on the road to recovery. So bare with me, if I post something really dumb in my progress to recovery 😀

Have a beautiful day!


2 thoughts on “More time, please.

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