At twenty-four, I’m probably too old to be fantasizing about stars and planetary movements.
But sometimes, I feel like a lonely star, know what I mean?
I’m surrounded by people, much like every star is surrounded by its fellows – yet I feel lonely, and I feel like I don’t fit in.
I have mood swings.
I’m scared I might be bipolar. I sweat a ton, like literal bullets pouring out of me. And I don’t eat salt. Maybe that has totally led to the depletion of lithium levels in my body and made me bipolar? I don’t know.
My mum is hypertensive, and bipolar and I’m scared I’m turning into her.
Sooch becomes Mum. Like Death Becomes Her.
I’ve tried to make my insecurities and my depression disappear. It works for a while, and returns with a bang. It hacks me apart. It chokes me. I can’t think. I have blackouts.
Just when I think that everything will be okay, that I will be normal and have a shot at happiness, things backfire. There’s only so much resistance I can put up, and I get sucked in.
I try to sound funny all the time. I make jokes. I have these bursts of bright, happy Soochness, before this turns into Soochpression.
“Funny how the stars always seem to shine, shine the brightest right before they die.”
I need you all to cheer me up please. I’m a giant baby today.
I love you all. You guys mean the world to me. I tell you everything and I come clean. And I really appreciate it that you don’t judge me or call me names.
I love You.