It's always felt like I've had to fend for myself

I feel like it's only a matter of time before I'm in trouble, destroyed and dragged back to a job situation I dislike, and am trapped in. I'm always fending for myself

I don't have the support of others because they don't really see me beyond my mask. I don't let them see it, or my desperation, because that makes me vulnerable to their "I know better than you what you need". When in fact they impose their imperfect faulty worldview with all it's difficult and stupid consequences.

I've felt like I've had to fend for myself since 8, or 9. School was a horrible place to be.

It made me so fucking angry. I've been trapped - unable to assert myself, cut off from my needs. Unable to leave

Choked, unable to communicate out of fear of abandonment or being attacked. It's self loathing as I have to endlessly deny myself to just get a flake of survival. It's always me alone, fighting, defensive, hypersensitive to danger. And my whole nervous system is exhausted.

It's totally shot. Frazzled. It'll grow back and recover, hopefully.

But I'm just sad. It's a chronic, dark sadness that never ends.

A constant battle that I can't win. A loneliness that will never stop. And on top of that there's been the day to day battles of money, survival and earning. Survival is costing me so much energy that I can't really function and work properly. 1 or 2 hours maximum. 1 article. Maybe.

But it's not coming from the soul. It's not particularly resonant because I don't think others could handle the truth. And I don't have the energy to really drive it forward strongly. Then the sadness continues. It's not despair like it used to be. But it's just the sadness that comes with never letting go, thinking that things will never get better. They might now I've written this article. It's a process, a cathartic process.

I feel like I'm on a rollercoaster with no safety bars.

I'm just hanging on for dear life on the edge of a seat. The grip is slipping away, and if I ever relax, pause, let go or take it easy - I'll be flung off and die when I hit the ground. So I hold on - knowing that it won't resolve the issue, but at least I survive.

I'm furious that I've been dumped in this situation - superficially I'm here. I've been provided for by the world. I've always had enough food, clothes, warmth, somewhere to live.

But it's only happened through a constant battle, a constant strain. Nobody has seen my despair. My inner world has been cut off, mutilated, shamed into non-existence.

Whenever I'm on the brink of sharing it. I stop. I sense danger.

I'm angry that I've been forced to wear a mask, forced to conform into a certain type of person, forced to behave in a certain way, forced to only talk about certain things. I've had to be a nice middle-class English boy.

Whenever I do something against this- there's a little policeman in my head warning me that I could/will be attacked for it. So I hold back. Shut up. Shut down - whatever it takes to survive.

Fending for myself is so frustrating. I can't ask for support -real support. I can't ask for help - because others are in a much worse emotional quagmire than I am (except they're numbed out from it). I'm just trapped, fighting a battle I can never win.

And nobody knows I'm struggling. Nobody knows how mad I am.

Nobody knows how fucking frustrated and pissed off I am for the world for bringing me into it and then making me have to figure it all out by myself. I'm livid. But of course I could never show that.

So I hide away as a hermit. I hide behind my writing and a computer screen. Because that way, I'm not affected by the energy of another person in front of me, shaping how and who I should be. I can talk more freely.

I'd like to finally feel safe.

I'd like to let go of all the heavy burdens and responsibilities I feel I have. I'd like to channel all this strong passion and energy into art and writing. I'd like to create and a more open/honest world where we can be real and not need facades and masks as much.

I'd like to have massive poo because all these issues are backed up, blocked and constipating my guts. I'd like to feel I can breathe properly and deeply. I'd like to not feel so choked all the time.

I'd like to have enough money to stop thinking about money. It doesn't need to be much. Just enough.

I'd like to finally relax - my body is so full of tension, so full of frustrations and sadness and anger. I can't move it properly. I'd like to float freely like bubbles of milk on top of coffee.

I have faith it will happen. I'm a good writer.I'm intelligent. I'm emotionally in tune with my body and other people. This will all resolve itself and one day soon I'll be able to focus on other people rather than myself.

But until then I'm a mad and desperate hermit that finds peace in writing.