Bad Friend

I’m not a bad friend. That’s what I keep saying to myself. That I’m a good human, who is only doing things out of love. But now I have come to a new conclusion. I am a bad friend. And not because I want to be, because of the Mental Health that has taken over me.

That’s not an excuse either, I’m being genuine. Before all this happened, I only had good intentions for people and would never want to hurt them. Now though? I still want to do that, but I can’t because I have an overwhelming feeling taking over me. Consuming my body day by day, eating away at me, making me doubt every move I ever make.

It tells me to push people away, to not let anyone in. It tells me to doubt myself in every situation I am ever presented with. It takes over my mind and makes me think things that before I would never believe in. It tells me I’m better off dead, that no one will miss me, that life is just pointless and no one cares about me. It tells me to treat people in a bad way because then they can feel what I feel. So they can walk in my shoes for just a minute. A second.

I used to have a life full of friends, now I’m lucky that I have one. She does everything for me, and even when I push her away she stands her ground and makes it known that she is not leaving. That is the sort of person I need, someone who knows that when shit gets tough, that I will insult her, hurt her, and possibly make her life hell.. but all in the knowledge that she is the last person I would ever want to hurt and without her I would be 6ft under by now.

And people will think this is an excuse. It’s fine if you d. But I do want to tell you; I wish I could blame myself. If I blame myself, I can fix the problem. I cant fix this problem.


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