Poisoned air
Poisoned air depression stories

marauderhealth Mentally defeated potato
Autoplay OFF   •   6 months ago
A wail of how the atmosphere feels these days

Poisoned air

Two months, roughly, since my mental health culminated in me being forced out of a small circle of people and friends and a guild within a game.

And... when I try to reconnect, even to apologize, I'm given the barest minimum of acknowledgement about my existence. But...

When I apologize, and ask - how are things? Is the guild alright? - I... get given a cold shoulder. Why?

Am I simply somebody not worth giving an answer to? Am I somebody who has been so demonized by peoples' opinions of their last view of me? Or...

Did a person I really hurt, encourage them not to, perhaps? Badmouth me behind my back?

I really don't know. And I shouldn't think of it...

But the creeper - are you as familiar with him as I am, yet? Have you read my past writings to become acquainted?

Yes, that creeper... The mind creeper. The coiling serpent slithering itself around my brain and suffocating all rational thought out of it.

Is all this just the creeper talking? I don't know... And I'm afraid to think for or against.

I'm... afraid to think at all. But overthink? Oh yes... That, I can do.

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