How many times did I stop myself? How many times did I tell myself this isn’t real? Again and again I tell myself this isn’t real—all in your head.Parting with my imagination was like an addiction. I didn’t want to come out, but I know I couldn’t stay here.
I know they weren’t all real, but I wanted to live the illusion. I feel a dull fake euphoria in this imagination and every time I know it was all faked. It was so easy and so safe—yet so lonely. And so that is why I questioned. Did I really want to stay here?
I pulled myself out when I started to question why this situation? I tend to replay certain situation, then when I caught myself I would question why? That has really help me to understand my fear and anxiety.
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