Last night I had a dream that I was very ill. I was dying.Tou might think it was a nightmare. But it wasn't. Hear me out. Everyone came and held my hand, brought blankets and stayed by my side. I felt loved and cared for. At first I was sad and scared to die but as people came and cared I became fine with dying.I felt peace for the first time in forever. As my eyes closed for eternity I woke up. I was disappointed to be alive if I am honest. The feeling of peace was gone. Instead I was hit with lonliness and chaos. The chaos of my flat wich I haven't managed to clean in months. The piles of clothes I tell myself to wash today but never do. I couldn't decide what to do with that dream so I picked up my phone and drowned my mind with YouTube Videos and Instagram Reels. 3 hours later I get off the phone but the feeling of lonliness and emptiness catch up. Oh well. I could not stop thinking about that dream. I am also very ill, just like in my dream. I've been sleepwalking since I was 13. That's when my brain decided it's too much trauma and put me in a dream-like state. So when I dream I feel more alive than in my actual life. I've lived alone for a while now. I always tell people I like being alone. That's not a lie. It's just not the whole truth. I know my friends and family care about me but I belive they are sick of my sickness. They stopped asking, like honestly asking, how I am doing because they already know I'm gonne be saying "not too well" or "bad". I am a honest person. Lying about being fine makes no sense to me. When I feel really unwell i'll send them desperate snapchats and messages to get my 15sek attention approval and a "you are so strong you got this, you've done this before, you're the strongest, you survived 100%..." blablabla you get it. Then they did their deeds as friend. I don't expect anyone to devote their whole life to me. I know they don't know better. Then when I am too much, they leave. I am not even mad about it, I would leave me too if I could. So back to my dream. I came to the conclusion, that my illness in the real world is just as deadly as the physical illness I had in my dream. I am literally on my deathbed since I was 13. Well if you're exact everyone is on their deathbed from birth but okay. My illness is untreatable and hasn't responded to various treatments. You would think after 12 years it's okay to say you've had enough. If I had cancer, nobody would question it because when dying from cancer, death is seen as a relieve for the ones suffering. Why isn't it the same for mental illness? You would never put a cancer patient in the psych ward because they accepted they will die. I accept that I will die from my illness but I can't tell anyone, no one what's to hear it. Nobody listens. I DON'T want to die. I want to live more than anything. I just believe I won't make it.