I don't want to feel better

I dont wanna get out of bed

Tommy's POV:

It's been 10 days since I last relapsed. It hurts. The Urges hurt. Everytime I'm upset there's nothing I can do because I'm trying. I don't want to upset anyone around me so I've resorted to not talking for long periods of time. It makes my chest burn slightly when I have the urge to talk so I shut up in order for it to last.

It's hard being quite in a house with a bunch of people trying to talk to you. I try to only answer with a nod or shake of the head or the occasional short word answer. I have a feeling that people like me better when I jsut shut up. So many people tell me I'm loud and annoying and to Jsut stop talking. I don't want people to dislike me so I'm just not going to speak unless completely necessary.

Sometimes I'm afraid I will loose my confidence to talk ever but I've thought about going selectively mute for a while, since I was 12 to be exact. The only issue is it doesn't seem very convenient, And I can't seem to shut up forever. Every time I do speek I feel like everyone is judging me. What's the point in speaking if every word doesn't give joy to others. Every failed joke or awkward remark makes me want to shut up and never let another sound leave my mouth.

Sometimes I find myself incapable of speaking, especially when I get really anxious. Sometimes I wish people would leave me alone when I get anxious but they never do. It's always "are you okay Tommy? What's wrong" I don't know what's wrong most of the time. They always try to touch me and hug me when I don't talk but it just makes me so much more anxious.

It's so confusing cause even if I had the ability to tell people I don't want to be touched right now a minute later I would want a hug. It's so confusing I can't ask for help. They will get mad at me. They will be upset if they can't please me. They will be upset that I keep changing my mind. They will leave me. They would give up on me.

I'm currently laying in bed. It's been a few hours since I got out of bed. I don't want to get up. I don't have the motivation. I'm tired all the time and I constantly feel on the verge of tears.
(Lol 420 words)
I've been listing to a lot more music lately and that's been helping a bit. I haven't been thinking much lately, not nearly as much as I used to yet I haven't been sleeping. I usually focus on a couple of simple thoughts at a time otherwise I panic.

I've always feared my panic and anxiety attacks and that fear can sometimes trigger them. Whenever I can feel them coming I start to panic and that never helps. I feel like if I tell anyone I'm tired all the time and I don't feel like doing anything they would tell me I'm faking it for attention. I mean I don't blame them. The only bad thing I've been though was the emotional abuse from my father.

I don't like talking about him though. He's a sorry excuse of a father. It's not nearly as much as other people have been through. I have no right to feel bad for myself. I wish I could just get out of bed. I'm probably faking all of this for attention. I could quite any second I want...

Who am I kidding

I haven't slept in 4 days, I can't bring myself to eat anymore and I barely get out of bed or speak to anyone. I can't remember the last time I brushed my teeth or even brushed my hair for that matter.

I hear a soft knock from the door before it opens. In walked none other than Dream himself. He walked over to my bed and sat down on the mattress.

"Hey Tommy, we're gonna watch a movie downstairs. Do you wanna join us? I know you've been having a hard past couple days so it's okay if not. We're all here for you and everyone in this house is willing to help you feel better, alright? It's gonna start in a couple minutes, come down whenever you're comfortable, we have more blankets down there as well." He spoke slowly and softly to me before running his hand through my messy hair and standing back up.