I really want attention

I'm an attention whore, that is all. I don't really care to think about if this is bad or if I hate this about myself. I don't know why I'm like this and I don't care to write about my childhood or whatever. I just really want attention. I would die for attention. I'm too old to act like this, maybe? I'm not a little kid to be praised and coddled for every little achievement, but I still want it.

I share my art online, mostly to make like-minded friends, but also for the attention. I get ecstatic seeing the numbers go up because I'm good at what I make. So I have to be better, I have to be the best. Somehow, it's just never enough. I still feel empty and aching deep within.

I sometimes think of having a girlfriend (or boyfriend, who cares), most people my age already have one, but I don't want one to compete with others. I want someone who's committed to being with me all the time. So then I realize I don't really want a partner, I just want attention.

My friends are nice to me and when I talk to them, I do feel whole. But when we go days without talking, because they're busy or I'm busy or someone didn't bother checking their socials or whatever, I start to feel doubt creeping up on me, that they don't like me, that the bond is withering because of me, I get needy, which I shouldn't because friends aren't supposed to be committed to you—to anyone—24/7. Nobody should be, that's just ridiculous. So I stay quiet, the ache returns; I still want attention.

I honestly don't care if it's praise or degradation. I'm quiet at my college, I only really hang out with a small circle, and I wonder if any of my classmates notice me. I wonder if they think I'm weird or off-putting or boring, and that makes me happy. I was once harassed and stalked by someone for months on end; I wonder if I'm still on his mind, because the thought makes me happy, that someone is seething because of my existence. Because that means my existence is acknowledged at all.

When I was younger, more reckless, more impulsive, I'd quietly do something bad (because my heart was never in it, and I'm not the person who enjoys drama at all) like sending someone an anonymous hate comment when I'd see them already being dogpiled. It was never anything outrageous; something like "can't even own up to your mistakes, you suck." Which just sounds childish, yeah lol. But then I'd see the apologists of that person jump to attack the anonymous sender and I'd get happy knowing I'm on their minds, even if they don't know it's me.

I would also—despite never acting on it and just blocking them—enjoy attention from people who clearly just wanted to harm or use me. Because they looked my way at all; that meant I was worthy enough to be used, apparently.

And all of this, it's never enough. When I look away, I start to feel lonely and unsure again. But that just means I've got to start looking for another pathway to attention I can sink into.