Yeah maybe its still there. But its like a person buried underneath an avalanche, barely alive, dying.

Like you said, youre afraid you might get lost in your head. I feel the same away about writing. There is just so much pain, and despair inside me at this moment that i'm afraid what i'll write will be so dark, it'll create this black hole that'll swallow me whole. Like this one time, when before i got sick, i wrote this piece about how we don't know anyone in this world, not even remotely. I wrote how, people project a version of themselves, a version that's pre calculated just so to create a particular desired emotion in the other person. Like a guy wants to create an impression that'll cause the girl to believe he is a gentle, compassionate person, in order to make the girl like her, he'll project a gentle compassionate side of himself, often exaggerated, and even fictional, and hides anything and everything that can be seen as uncaring, when he talks to that girl. its like he'll a wear a mask, designed to make the girl like him. At the same time when that guy wants to fit into a crowd of other guys who are say uncaring womanizing bunch, so this time he'll put on a different mask, one that projects I am a guy, and i don't care if i hurt women.

by the time i ended writing that piece i realised people have so many masks, all designed for a specific purpose, that they chose from to suit their own needs, that we can never truly know what the real face of a person looks like. It was like i dug up a rabbit hole and fell in and its a bottomless hole. I started thinking, what if my parents wear a mask in front of me, a mask that projects them as a kind caring human beings but in reality there is another side of them, the real one that i dont know, coz they choose not to show it to me. What if the real version of them are people who like and enjoy inflicting pain upon others. I just couldnt stop myself from stop digging that hole deeper and deeper. At the end i felt so alone, like i don't know anyone in this world. I ended up deleting the whole thing, cause it made me depressed. This is the same reason i stopped writing, after i got mentally sick. Coz i didnt know if i'll be able to handle what i create with all this endless darkness looming inside of me.