On Fake People, Things I Hate, and Why I’m Not Around


Have you ever gotten to the point where you felt like almost everything and everyone around you is fake? Like, you just woke up one morning and you felt so overwhelmed about everything that you had to stand back a bit?

Well, that’s what’s been happening to me lately.

If you’ve been reading this blog, or have been talking to me deeply, you would know that my depression isn’t a secret. Well, recently it has been really, really, really bad.

Let’s see…Well, this started 2 Mondays ago when I felt like…oops. Wow. Are these really the people in my life now? How did I get to the point where I thought that the friends I have now are actually “real”, when well…it doesn’t really seem like they are. Even if you’re actually just being there for them. I didn’t like the thought that these people felt like I was wasting their time and space because uhm, hello, look at our chat history, people. Look at our history, period. There, I said it.

I’ve also gotten to that point in my life when I feel like…everything’s happening so fast, and yet it’s all too slow…you know what I’m saying? Don’t worry if you’re confused. I confuse myself a lot, too. But, anyway…let’s just say that when you’re in your late 20s and you feel like “nothing is happening in your life”, well…it sucks. And it sucks bad.

Normally, it does not affect me, but I guess there really are moments in life when you feel like you have no idea what you’re waiting for anymore. And it doesn’t matter whether it’s about your career, your relationships, whatever. It’s hard when you get to that point, but then when you look back and think about the alternative…it’s like, you have no idea where you’re going to go, and you certainly don’t want to go back. So, what would you do, right?

And then I suffered two losses in the past two weeks. You know when people say they’re tired because school is tiring, work is tiring, etc? Well, I’m tired because of all these losses and mishaps. And believe me, these things become normal to you when you’re used to them, but there also comes a time when you just get so tired. So, so, so tired.

I’ve been wanting to write this for a while, but the thing about me is whenever I get these overwhelming moments, I really get overwhelmed. And I’ve no idea how to write it all down anymore.

So, maybe this’ll be too negative, but maybe, that’s the only way for me to let it go.

I hate the fact that I lost one of my dogs. And I can’t talk about it because it kills me.

I hate the fact that I lost my tablet (I know it’s shallow, but…)

I hate the fact that no one seems to read what I write. I don’t even want to write fiction anymore. I have all these ideas in my head, and I still get requests from former fanfic readers from time to time, but you know…generally, when I put out all those books last year, I just felt like I never really got the support I needed. And wanted (because seriously, who does not want support?). And it sucks when you see people who don’t work hard as much as you do get all the support—even when their works are just mediocre. It’s hard when you don’t get the chance you know you deserve. It hurts when you actually get that chance but it doesn’t make you feel like anything because no one is around to support you. I don’t even want to read this stupid book (a compilation I’m part of) that arrived in my door because it pains me. And believe me, I know how unfair life is, and I know this sounds like I’m such a brat but I never talk about this so whatever. I hate it when answers take months and years to come. I can wait, but how long is too long? And how much is too much?

I hate it when I feel like work is being monotonous. I hate feeling like I’m not good enough, or I’m not getting enough, or whatever.

I hate not having real friends, maybe because I’ve mostly pushed people away, but what can I do? I really can’t stand people who have disappointed me or hurt me. I seriously have none of that plasticity or whatever you call that thing where you still talk to people you hate or have done you wrong even when you do not like them at all. When you’re cut off, you’re cut off. Done and done. Last week, when I was asking for help, only two people went out of their way to reach out—Jehan and Bea. And if you’re reading this, thank you girls. See, it’s like out of the sea of people in your life, you don’t really have anyone. And that sucks.

But anyway, I chanced upon my Facebook a couple of days ago. I deactivated it so I don’t know why it’s working, and still not using it the way I used to because it seriously gives me the creeps now. And well, I saw messages from some friends, specifically Nina and Alyssa. Sorry for not replying. Sorry for not being strong enough to come back yet. But I appreciate it. I really do.

I hate waiting for that ring on my finger. I don’t know, I don’t even want to deal with people on my wedding day if that’s going to happen, but maybe I just like the idea of “getting married” even if I’m actually in a stable relationship because when you see people around you getting married, it sucks, and yeah I’m still that romantic girl deep down even though I buried her in so much control now. (Uhm, it’s the time of the month so maybe screw this? But maybe no, because it’s real)

I hate friends who say “I’m a busy mom, how are you?” UHM, like I care? I still don’t want kids, nope. And I’m good with my cats and dogs, thank you.

I hate missing my family but when I look back on all the years of abuse—abuse that most of them deny because yeah, my brothers never really felt that—it sucks. It sucks. It sucks. I hate missing them. I hate wanting to check on them or wanting to visit because I know nothing has changed and it will just break my heart if I do. But of course, no matter how screwed up your family is, you’d still miss them, even just a bit. Just imagine not having anyone to come back to. It sucks.

I hate still having these fits of depression and anxiety and the feeling that you want to hurt yourself (sadly, I have relapsed and am doing so at times). I hate going back to that 9 year old girl who hurt herself because no one is around for her.

I hate not having a proper home. I won’t elaborate but yeah.

I hate feeling like I have no proper “roots” because at times, I still think about how it would be like to meet my real dad even though the times I tried to find him, I just got severely disappointed.

I hate not being enough.

I hate the stupid arguments, and not being understood.

Again, I hate not being enough.

Or maybe, I hate being too much.

Maybe, I should talk about these things more, little by little.

Maybe, I’d have clarity then. Maybe, not.

It’s just a cycle.


So, I don’t really know what I’m talking about anymore, but this felt somewhat cathartic. Maybe I’ll be fine. Maybe, I won’t. I’d always pull through, anyway.

Right now, I’m just tired.