Word vomit

I just don't want to do anything. I don't understand why you won't talk to me. Why you keep ignoring, avoiding, me. I didn't do anything. I haven't done anything in a long time. I don't understand why you are acting like this. Why you are treating me like this. Why I am allowing you to. I would never walk away. But right now it is all I want to do. It seems as if that is the only thing I could do to get your attention. But maybe your attention is not what I need. Maybe it's exactly what I don't need. I don't know. I've never claimed to, but I wish I did. I wish I could. But I can't and I don't understand why. It seems like I don't really understand anything anymore. Maybe I never have, which is scary. And sad. Sometimes I feel stuck. Like I'll never move from where I am. Like I am destined to remain in the same place. Every day. Until I die. What if I am? What if that's all I ever amount to? Why do I feel this way? Why am I saying these things? Sometimes I don't understand what perpetuates me to write. Maybe that's the point. Maybe I'm not supposed to. Maybe I'm just supposed to do it regardless of the end result. Regardless of what anyone else thinks. What I think. Why do I care so much what other people think? Why do I let it get to me? Why do I let the actions of others determine how I feel. How I live. How I think. I wouldn't want to do that to them. I would want them to leave me out of it. The way they often do anyway. I can't stop writing. I feel like I have to keep going because my mind does. My wrist hurts and I want to stop, but I can't make myself because writing is the only thing that can make me feel better, so maybe if I just keep writing, I'll start to feel better. Right now it feels like I'll write a book before that happens. It scares me. I don't want to feel like this. But I do. And I don't know what to do about it. I don't know how to make myself okay. Maybe I'm not supposed to. Maybe I'm just not supposed to be okay. I don't know. But right now I really wish I did.