Kindness.

I lay in bed all day though it leaves my head with this dull ache. My limbs can't seem to find energy from anywhere.
I drag myself out, ready myself to face the air of the outside...
All the while the little voice in my head trying to talk me out of it. I want to leave- see new things, breathe fresh air. This stagnancy is like poison. Hypnotic. Safe sheets, melancholy.
My stomach rumbles. For I haven't eaten anything worth writing about.
I do not want to starve my body and my mind as I do, it is only habit. Habit formed by a lack of care.
Care for myself.
I forgive myself, for being so cruel. For needing to remind myself often...still, that I am worthy of being. No matter how much I can insist that I know it. It repeats in me.
I hold myself away from reality. Close doors onto things I long for. Do not let myself touch, what I am afraid to lose. I exist in my solitude. And it enriches me. But past a certain point, I know I am avoiding being... I search for the right word... Known? I suppose there is a part of me, so afraid of loss that I do not wish to be known by those I could end up losing. Friends I tend to gravitate toward are ones I am almost certain of eventually having to bid farewell to. As they do not belong anywhere in particular. They are drifting. As I drift. People who will drift in and out of my life, so that at the times when they are gone. It is almost like they are not. They are just away. We live our separate lives. We find each other and we are like magic. But I teach myself not to need them - or I do not allow myself to. Though I would strip my soul to rebuild theirs if they needed- I do not want to ask that of anyone.
Maybe I should not be so willing to destroy myself for anyone.
How did I learn that I was worthless? I am no different than any other human.
I should be worth no less, and no more.
But somewhere, someplace I made the assumption that I must be unworthy
Maybe because people left. And I was a child. And I blamed myself.
And said nothing. And was therefore told no different.
I just went on believing my own minds tale.
Every person who left.
It was because I was not enough.
I would never be enough.
It's funny. Now...because I have finally learnt to appreciate that I am kind of a decent human.
But fear restricts my movements. I have to battle to be in the moment. To feel what I am feeling,  and not just expect to experience more destruction at my own careless hand.
I fear failure. Thus avoid risks. I fear success...and so do more of the same.
All I wanted as a child was to be invisible.
I became invisible, and it destroyed everything.
What did I think it would do?
Where did I think I would go?
Never never land?