I probably know more people this summer than in any of my past ones, and yet I feel lonelier than ever. Sometimes I sleep until 6 PM, just because I don’t want to spend another full day pondering my own isolation. The only person I talk to with any regularity is my best friend.
I know this is all my own doing: I could reach out to other people, but I’ve gotten so used to solitude that I don’t even want to see or talk to anyone else anymore. I can’t remember the last time I took the train somewhere (except for the Nine Inch Nails concert I went to on Friday, which was the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I can only describe it as life-changing and the one place where I felt that I could let loose and be completely happy—besides that, everything feels empty).
Despite all this, I don’t want to go back to school next month. I don’t want to see any of those people again.
I feel full of emptiness. It’s almost a physical sensation. Part of me wants to talk to a therapist, but I don’t know what I would say. I don’t like whining, including in these diaries, but there would be no point in writing them if I were pretending to be something I’m not. ♦