As of late, I am feeling hollow. Yes, I laugh and smile and do enjoy stuff, but it's quick-lived or not as joyful as it is. There's a lingering feeling, a sense of familiar loneliness to all of it. I don't really know. I don't really understand. It's there.
Then I just feel like I'm drowning in an ocean of my emotions. They're so fluid and light. It's like they're not even there, so I sink so easily. They phase through me like I'm nothing but a piece of paper. Maybe I am... A ripped and crumpled one for sure.
I'm quite good at pretending when I need to, though not completely. I can't fake what I feel, but I can pretend that I don't feel hollow. That the depression isn't there. It's such a pain to have other people know. It saps me of my energy. The only help they do is help make me feel worse.
Well, when I'm irritated and angry, I don't feel hollow. Still, it makes my head hurt to be angry too long. It's so taxing. Then there the times when I feel elated. I don't feel hollow, just tiny bouts of pleasure. It's more of, I like it when it begins, but then it just pummels down into boredom and nothing, leaving me empty.
Sometimes, writing helps. Sometimes, cutting (not too deep to actually scar) does the trick. Art? It's lost.
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