I realized I have a hard time pouring out my thoughts when my mind is not clouded by negative emotions. I do not mean to say that I am well, I am simply better.
Feelings are a little bit like praying. We are reminded of God when things get hard; when we see no way out or we feel helpless. I should not come across as a religious person because I am not. Never been to be completely honest. Purely trying to emphasize that hardly anyone thanks God for the smile on their faces.
What a mixture of bad energy and hypocrisy we have all come down to.
I am in love with love and I love loving. I suppose I always kind of thought I am good at it too. Maybe not, I am not sureanymore.
I enjoy the smell of the skin and the feel of it and maybe the warm bed, the hugs and the occasional attention. All of which have blinded me from listening to my subconscious drowning and screaming for help. It actually never occurred to me that I too was not ready for what was to come and continuing a situation that was causing misery both ways was not something I should have accepted. After all the hurt I believed that my heart and soul would feel the burden and to my surprise I was wrong. I feel light. I feel uncaged. I feel free.
With all that I am, I have loved you. There are times when I failed to show you just how much and poor decisions have helped us fail. I would like to say I wish you nothing but happiness, but in reality I don’t. I wish you to simply get what you give, not just you, but everyone. This will take some time to heal, though one day I will smile back at this blessing. Love is so hard to come by, such a shame to let it go without a fight.
Why do I not see the endgame everyone seems to see? Why does everything that used to make me feel happy, is failing me now? Why am I not complete? Why am I not grateful for having so much more than others? Why do I have goals impossible to achieve? I actually do know the answer to this one. One of my great life philosophies is that you need to strike for gold in order to be content with silver as opposed to drilling for coal. I then moved on to ask others for help. This is when life becomes an English joke because no one understands. Literally. No one. Not even people that go through the same stuff as you because they have their pain and their train of thoughts. Not family, because you are just acting up on account of being spoiled. The kids in Africa don’t have water. Not friends, because they know that something is off with you, but instead, just like most people, they chose to see the fun in you (if you have any). Not a girlfriend/boyfriend because they tried to be patient and supportive, but you are just too high maintenance and it’s grown to be more pain than pleasure. As things start feeling a little more intense you begin to feel scared for/of yourself and move on to more advanced help also known as 24 h suicide prevention hotline. In the 5 minutes I spent browsing their website I have found that they are in desperate need of donations, statistics are showing that the female suicide rate is ridiculously higher than male and that they are looking for volunteers. This little sorrowful adventure only made me realize how truly sad we all are and I came to think that maybe, whatever I am going through is not even that serious and it will probably pass while others definitely need that help. No one wants to be bothered with childish ways, right? In one of these rainy days when your self-destructive plan is coming slowly but surely to fruition you are thinking that maybe you need professional help. Doctors that will prescribe pills that in all reality one would probably use to make the job easier which scares me even more. I am even terrified of getting drunk because I know how it gives me the courage I need to do stupid things and it just might be one of them. “If you feel depressed reach out for help”. I find the irony humoristic to say the least.
I have been for a while now. It’s not even that since I know I don’t understand happiness and therefore I am longing for a feeling I don’t know how it feels like. I was 14, a long time ago, when I flirted with the entire pills cabinet I had access to at that time. Actions so stupid that next time they might just work. I thought I was depressed then: running away from home, picking fights with my sister and all that. I wasn’t. I was angry and only angry enough to want to prove a point. I even brought a knife. I am afraid of sharp objects ever since and also that time when an acquaintance tried to slit her wrists with a razor in front of me… Boy, is my post dramatic or what?
I recognise the ridiculousness of my thoughts and the ungratefulness of my feeling processing and yet it just all seems to be a very dark shade of grey. I am no famous writer nor do I have any similar skill to be honest but I need to place down how I feel in order to save myself. Dramatic. Due to recent events I have sunk deeper in my dirty puddle of life and I have found myself daydreaming about this all being over. I know that it is quite a popular topic lately and unfortunately a pathetic attempt to get attention from some, a real cry for help from others and a reason to be made fun of by the internet comedian found in most of us. As I write these words, I do feel extremely pathetic so if you read this and feel the same in regards to myself, I’m glad.
I have been for a while now. It’s not even that since I know I don’t understand happiness and therefore I am longing for a feeling I don’t know how it feels like. I was 14, a long time ago, when I flirted with the entire pills cabinet I had access to at that time. Actions so stupid that next time they might just work. I thought I was depressed then: running away from home, picking fights with my sister and all that. I wasn’t. I was angry and only angry enough to want to prove a point. I even brought a knife. I am afraid of sharp objects ever since and also that time when an acquaintance tried to slit her wrists with a razor in front of me… Boy, is my post dramatic or what?
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