But I've got a war in my mind.

I feel like a character in one of Virginia Woolf's short stories. Where they know they're not happy but they can never understand why. Then, they realise that the answer was right there in front of them the whole time. They just ignored it because they couldn't accept it. And now, I am at the point in the story where I have just realised why but I'm not really sure on how. How to get rid of it, how to handle it, how to overcome it.

Maybe it's just me, you know? I am at constant war with myself in my head. Just because I can't really go to war with others. It would waste my time. There's no real fight anymore. No real interest in anything. Nothing I eat tastes good. Nothing I watch seems any good. Nothing anyone says seems to be of any importance. I'm a blank piece of paper people can just pour their emotions onto and I'll absorb it but nothing much really comes out of it.

I am a ranting buffoon inside my head but a complete idiot outside. Keeping my mouth shut about how I feel so when I can take it out on other things, I do. It's stupid, I know but so far, I seem to be only particularly good at doing stupid things.

There is no one I can really talk to. I need someone I can talk to. Because I just realised how much I hate you. How much I despise you're very existence in my life. I can't breathe. I've never been so filled up with rage and never been able to say it. I do this all the time. I hold it all in until I don't know how to let it out. All the bitter memories linger in my body, becoming a part of me until I can't get rid of them.

I am a mess of a woman, or a girl, or whatever. I'm losing myself too much at a time and I need to do something before I really lose myself. Already I pretend to not hear people and I pretend to not see things, just because I can't handle it. I'm turning into a coward. I am turning into one of them. I don't want to. My mother brought me up better than that. I have better worth. I need to.