Quiet Nights

These are the nights I hate, when it is so quiet in my apartment and all I think about is everything that is wrong with me and all the disappointments I experience.

My therapist tries to convince me that it's not me but how is it not when I'm the common denominator. It's too much of a coincidence that I'm no longer invited to family gatherings and I can reach out and barely get an acknowledgement.

I know it's not easy to be around me. I think people would have a more fun time I f I was not there as evidenced by my panic attack last Saturday after the concert.

I come with a lot of baggage; it's just the way it is and quiet nights open those bags and get the bad things to fill my mind. It's all I can think about which makes sleep very dufficult.

I think about how little my family has interacted with me and how people I work with, who are my supposed friends, never bother to ask how I am. Very few people do. My life has so little validation and I wonder if anyone would even be affected if I was no longer around. No one reads my writing anymore or buys my books. I can be silent for days on end and few notice. (Yes, I  know everyone's busy but when a celebrity tweets there's time for thst.) I still can't get over my family. All I can ask is why am I here?

I hate the quiet nights. They just emphasize the loneliness and self-hate. Then I realize I suck to be around so it's better for other people.

Dana