Jane it's not you, it's me!

All I've ever wanted was to matter to someone. There have been times that I could go without human contact and be so far in a darkened depression, the thought of calling someone felt too great. I'm never sure how to interpret people and their daily behaviors. When people drop their voices so that you can't hear them as soon as you come around, that fucks with my anxiety. I don't need to feel like shit and nervous whenever I think someone is talking shit about me. Of course, what difference does it make? At least my name is in the conversation. My alone time is draining. It's also sad. My brain goes through emotional Olympics while I try to tune out the ringing in my ears. I balance on a fine line of "keep your mind off of it" and "what's going to happen next" all the while, those around me don't know that I'm quietly suffering. I wonder what type of help I would need. Would it be beneficial to see a therapist to gage my sadness and my demons? Especially when that sadness is tied to a series of unfortunate events that I haven't really quite healed from. I mean, does my subconscious have to keep reminding me through dreams that I do not have to give the people in my past power? Fuck them, right? I can't be levelheaded while I'm dragging around emotional weight from every heartbreak and every let down that I've faced. The energy is enough to kill me. I miss the person I used to be, even if I was just as reflective back then. I fear future me so much, that current me has no problem self medicating to the point of being numb in order to get through the day. Maybe dreams are what they are and the chemicals that cause them are simply coincidental. When I stop breathing and my mind spends its last 7 minutes replaying the story of my life, what difference will it have made if I had mattered to anyone. I'll never know. Their grief will only ever be theirs to hold. I think it still would be good to know beforehand, just the same. Or not. My grief is the only thing I've really ever known.