It’s strange how I find solace in these digital lines, pouring out my innermost thoughts to a faceless void. Here, amidst the vastness of the internet, I am just a whisper in the multiple voices. Yet, it feels like the only place where my voice is unfiltered, where I can be raw and real about the relentless battle within my mind.
Nothing irritates me more than the night when I want to sleep but I can’t because of my overthinking. It’s past midnight when I’m writing this. The room is silent except for the clicking of my keys against the keyboard. In these moments, the act of writing becomes my lifeline, a way to anchor myself amidst the tempest of emotions. The keys become my voice, speaking the words that my lips cannot form, expressing the ache that resides deep within my chest.
The thoughts in my head are like a relentless storm, each one crashing into the next, creating a noise of worries and fears that I can’t seem to silence. It’s as if my mind is a tangled web of anxieties, weaving a narrative of worst-case scenarios and self-doubt. Every decision, every interaction, becomes a battleground for my overthinking mind.
Sometimes I just want to pen down my thoughts because I know, nobody will understand me. I always crave to be understood by someone who appreciates my silent side and my most random days. Sometimes I’m annoying and loud, but most of the time I’m just quiet and sad to converse.
Most often, I don’t feel like talking about my situation cause I know if I talk, I’ll surely cry. I wish people could hear my brain because I want people to understand me but I don’t know how to communicate my feelings the proper way so I’m always being misunderstood. Everything sounds so good in my head but when I try to say it my mind goes blank… I can’t explain why some things are a big deal and make me feel that way, and when I say it out loud it makes me feel dumb or that I’m wrong for having that reaction.
Being an introverted and sensitive person costs a lot, I always try to hide my feelings, and I always pretend nothing happened in order not to be labeled as dramatic, nobody knows how details hurt me, nobody knows how much I will overthink a word told by my beloved person, nobody understands how tiny actions matter. Even after trying so much I still get a tag of being overdramatic and oversensitive. Literally, everyone thinks I just need sympathy and attention. But it’s not that, I just notice too much, that’s it and it really hurts.
I replay conversations in my head, analyzing every word, and every expression, searching for signs of disapproval. It’s as if I’m wearing a mask, pretending to be okay, while inside, I’m falling apart. I second-guess every decision, wondering if I’ve said the wrong thing and if I’ve made a fool of myself once again.
I’m tired, Internet. Tired of overthinking, tired of being anxious, tired of feeling like I’m constantly on the edge of a breakdown. So here I am, laying bare my thoughts in the hope that someone, somewhere, will hear my silent cries.
A Troubled Soul in Cyberspace