i should be happy where i am; the handful of people i have around treat me like any other person.
they respect me and they treat me with just as much kindness and patience as i give them; so i should be happy, right?
hell, i even get compliments! genuine compliments! people actually appreciate my existence now and treat me like i matter!
but it's so fucking foreign to me.
i'm so used to shit resetting and being thrown into that constant emotional loop of bullshit that i've been stuck in since effing grade school.
find friends. be nice. try your best. friends take advantage of you. friends ruin your fucking reputation with absolutely everything you hold dear and crush you. isolate yourself. slowly sink lower into depression. stop caring. repeat.
ive lived through it so many times now i've lost count. the cycle repeated and after the first 3 runs i stopped fighting against it. i just.. tried to focus on how nice it was having friends for the time, even if they didn't last long.
but now it's all out the window and i know i'm free from it because i'm out on my own and i'm not putting myself in those same situations.
but i guess i'm just so used to being a disappointment that it becomes second nature to constantly doubt myself.
its like... i've gotten so far this time. i've come so far and i don't know what to do because the moment i get my hopes up everything will reset, wont it?
everything will go back and i'll be that same scared kid, sitting in the bathroom with a knife and not being able to do anything, desperately wishing that i could.
"you're a monster"
"you have no redeemable qualities"
"there's nothing to like about you"
"perhaps the reason you cant find any friends is because you're secretly a fucking retard"
those things may very well have been true at the time. in fact, they may even be true now.
they'll probably be true until the day i die. people wont put two and two together. they wont realize how i became the person i am.
because they wont care.
but things aren't the same anymore. I've looked death in the face when it wasn't my choice; and my perspective has changed.
i discovered new things about myself.
and i finally discovered what "home" is.
it is cold. it is damp. but it has hints of warm lights and soft murmurs all around. its an idea. a memory. a feeling.
It isn't necessarily that everything is going to be alright; but that being just "ok" is good enough for the time being.
things aren't going to reset anymore, because i am home.
happiness will come eventually.