The loneliness I’ve been feeling as of late is beginning to suffocate me. The passion I typically have for writing seems to be fading and this saddens me. It bothers me that I haven’t even been posting on my blog like I used to.

But really, more than anything, it’s the loneliness that’s getting to me. Usually I enjoy my solitude. I like being left to myself to do my own thing most of the time but lately it’s been eating at me.

I actually been craving human contact.

To be held. To be heard. To be seen.

But I’m stuck behind this wall. I feel disconnected from people more often than not and it’s next to impossible for me to trust anyone anymore. Sure, I can talk up a storm, but I don’t really let anyone in. With new people and sometimes even with my therapist it feels like empty words most of the time.

I’m tired.

I’m not okay. I resent feeling like I need to pretend to be.

It aggravates me that every time I’ve let someone in close enough to touch me, demands are placed upon me. The expectation that my body stops becoming my own is too damn much.

But I’m lonely and it hurts.

I feel empty and drained with nothing left to give.

Not sure why but as of late, the memories of that terrible day years ago has been plaguing me.

I miss being the person I was before that day. I miss being the person I was before I met my husband.

I feel ill from it all – like I’ve got the damn flu and I can’t seem to shake it.

So fucking tired, but I can’t sleep worth a shit to save my life.

I would like to be able to kiss someone again without feeling like I’m suffocating or drowning. I would like to feel the touch from someone without it feeling like crawling bugs, needles, or bleeding. I would like for someone to be able to be in my space without it causing a fucking crisis.

If I can’t have those things, then I would like for this desire and craving to just fucking die already. I can’t have it both ways. It’s destroying me.

I can’t do this anymore.