I’m sorry if this isn’t where I should be posting this but I think I’m faking my mental illness, I have to be. Sure, I have my episodes of anger and intense sadness and times where nothing feels real anymore and times where all the people in my mind are arguing away and I have my awful, broken-brain moments of mental anguish but it has to be normal. Depression maybe at the worst. It cannot be anything more. I’m faking it to feel like I’m unique and have something left that makes me ME and because it makes for a cool personal narrative. Or maybe because I want an explanation or justification for the way I act and the destructive things I’ve done and people I’ve hurt. And I’m faking it all for myself. No one else knows, because I truly have no one left. I’ve burned every bridge because I’m destructive and irritable and awful and I needed others but no one needs me. It’s like me wanting to feel bad, wanting to feel this loneliness i’ve hated for so long, WANTING to be ill. I did this all to myself, and I continue to. And I’ve told no one these things. No one is left to care or know. I’m the only one who knows, I’m the only one left for me to create a false image for, to lie to. And it makes me feel disgusting, and angry, and resentful, and awful that I am so terrible that I’m willing to act like anything is actually wrong with me when everything is normal and fine. I’m not like that, but for some reason I seem to think I am.