The repercussions of needing to be more

The last few weeks, I've unknowingly put myself under great pressure in becoming more than what I am now.

How did I know? I noticed a pattern of disassociating from my wants, needs, life. I craved for a type of satisfaction I don't know how to fulfill. I slept it off, I ate it off, I drank it off. I went away.

There's this hole in me that's growing which I have failed to recognize. I never know how I feel, how to put into words what I want. There are millions of words and it's just a matter of mixing them together to create and express a thought.

I'm not a deep thinker. I let the pressure and my anxiety swallow me whole until darkness is all I have.

I've shed tears to the unknown. I am afraid of the unknown. I am afraid of losing my grasp to reality.

But I believe that words are my way out of this emptiness. Having gone through the same wave of uneasiness and self-loathing process, I know that I need to be able to feel (which most often than not I forget to do so) and recognize the overflowing obscure emotions.

I have to talk it out. I have to hear myself.

Thus, here I am, opening myself up and getting in touch within myself.