I am so jealous of normal people, who don't suffer from so much anxiety, who are able to talk nicely to each other, stay in their shitty world without an ounce of curiosity. I wish I was them. I am so rude damnit. I wish I had a lot of friends I could chill with. I wish I could be productive without overthinking productivity and how its an idea propagated by our society because they were too afraid of the capabilities of an idle brain. I hate how I question everything so much that it feels like anything I do is only doomed. I feel so jealous man, of all these people living their little boring lives happily, without any regrets, without any questions. Partying like dumbfucks and imitating each other. I mean I wish I was them. I wish I could just let go that easily.
My journey with a mental health disorder
When I was 5, I used to spend hours focusing at the window pane talking to myself, calling myself special, my mother used to tell me that mad people do that. I was always a notorious kid and knew no limits, not much has changed since childhood for I grew up thinking of this as my superpower. I was brought up in a middle class family by very ambitious parents. From childhood taking care of myself felt very foreign to me, and I always chose to challenge myself instead. Everything was going fine apart from the anxiety attacks, which became frequent during my teenage years. By then, I went through a series of inhumane events and I learnt that not everyone needs a reason to hurt someone. Day by day, I turned myself more and more into a recluse. I never had a lot of friends because I feared getting rejected by them for not being good enough. My mental disorder gained its gravity by my late teenage. I was always a sharp student, but having brought up in an environment of insane competition...
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