I don't know what to title this

Trigger warning: self hate.

I think I've hit on why being around large groups of people for substantial amounts of time is overwhelming for me. It's because none of them seem to care about me, and in the socially acceptable interactions that I can have with them, there is nothing I can do to make them care, no matter how hard I try, no matter that I do try and have tried.

I'm not saying I'm all alone. I'm not. I have friends. They're just online and I may never meet them physically. This is a problem because I need to be with them while we laugh, together, so hard we're rolling on the floor. I need to be with them while I look at my feet and talk about what's hurting me. I need to be with them while they tell me their secrets, their passions, their regrets, their mistakes and how they learned from them. But I can't. And I don't know if I ever will.

The one thing I prefer about making friends online is that it's much more immediate. When I meet someone in a space that I know is safe, I feel that I can be completely honest with them. Within minutes, they know more relevant information about me than the people who have spent the last three weeks in the same place as me know. There's an honesty that is able to exist online that, when translated to physical interaction, is shrouded in social conventions and physical space and attraction and context and anxiety and uncontrollable factors.

When I'm honest with someone in person, they're either repulsed or overwhelmed, or they feel the need to react in some way. I'm not asking for a reaction when I tell you I'm an asshole. I'm being honest; I'm warning you that although I'm working on becoming a better person, it's slow going, and I struggle, and I will fuck up. I'm not asking for a reaction when I say I'm having a depressive episode. I'm letting you know that I'm not fully okay, but I'm existing, and if I knew what I needed I would tell you, but me not knowing doesn't give you license to make suggestions or other comments.

I just can't stop thinking that I don't know anything about people, that everyone who says they're my friend is lying, that everyone else uses the word "friend" to mean something that it doesn't mean to me, that I'm not enough for anyone but that I'm too much for everyone but that I can't be both at once but that I am, and I can't fix myself, and I may not even be worth fixing.

This hurts to write, probably not as much as it hurts to read. I don't know how to snap out of this. I'm not okay, and I've been not okay for over a week. There's too much going on. I'm very used to feeling for long periods of time that I'm about to crack under the strain of everything. Sometimes I wish I would crack, because then I would have time to pick myself up, to heal.