27/01/17

I haven’t posted anything personal here in a while so I guess it’s time to do that. The last two weeks have been really rough. I feel like I’ve lost a part of myself. I keep lashing out at people close to me or shutting down completely. I haven’t been eating properly and my sleep is all over the place. I kept waking up last night and I couldn’t get back to sleep. I’m trying really hard to focus on the positive things, you know? Like the people who are here for me when I need them and the family who drop everything to help me out.

I’m just struggling but I suppose I’ve been struggling for a long time. I haven’t been happy for a while. I didn’t notice it because I was used to it and I distracted myself with drugs for a time and then alcohol. Now, I guess, is the best time for me to attack it; when it’s raw and exposed and I can’t hide from it anymore. I’ve never made an effort to help myself. I always watched from a distance as I floundered in the water, gasping for air. It was almost amusing to me how much of a ridiculous mess I was, it was a joke. I was my own funniest punchline. I laughed about the suicidal thoughts and the perpetual tears and the mood swings. I thought there was a certain dignity in sinking with the ship. I was wrong.

When I was a kid I used to think it was pathetic being happy. What’s the point? It goes away eventually, so just stay here in the sadness because it never leaves you. Even when you’re elated, the highest in the world, it’s still there. I made friends with mine. I just accepted it was a part of who I was and didn’t question it at all. My bad. I didn’t realise it affected everything I did and everything I felt. I was never good enough, I was never pretty enough, stop smiling you look stupid, you’re pathetic, nobody loves you, don’t eat that, don’t do that. I knew I was worthless. There wasn’t a doubt about it.

So, I guess the point is I’m trying. I mean, it’s not going to go away completely and I know that. And it’s not going to go away quickly or easily, either. I guess if you really want to help yourself you have to try. The first thing is realising you’re important. Not in the grand scheme of things, like the universe, but in the little bits. The delicate touches, the memories, the kind words, the laughter. I’m not as expert in being nice to people, but I like to think that I’m a good person. The more I think I’m a good person, the smaller the demon gets. The smaller the demon gets, the healthier I’ll be. I still feel like I’m making a fuss over nothing. And that my tiny world isn’t worth all this effort, but maybe it is. Maybe in a few months I can see myself the way other people see me. Or even better, the way I’ve always, secretly, wanted to be.

My favourite bra because boobs.

I’ve been considering losing weight for a while, but I don’t think that’s necessarily the problem. I just need to tone up.

Sometimes I stay in the bath for too long because I’m too busy picking apart my own character. Why do I do the things that I do? Why don’t I ~truly~ care about anyone other than myself? Was it the rape that turned me into the monster I am now, or was it an inevitability? Will I ever be able to make someone happy, or will I burn everything I love to the ground forever until I die alone?

Or sometimes I have a really quick bath because I don’t like when my hands go prune-y. It could go either way.

Pros and cons of having a stoner girlfriend

Pros:

Always laughs at your jokes

Cons:
Eats a lot
Dinner takes two hours to make when it should only take 30 minutes
Sleepy

This is what happiness looks like.

Why am I sad? That’s a good question. I can’t always look at my life objectively and find the fault or the crack. Maybe it’s a series of really tiny and seemingly insignificant fractures that eventually build up. Maybe it’s a big thing but I don’t know what it is yet? I spend a large majority of my time not knowing how I really feel. I’ve built up so many layers of myself that I don’t know which one I’m going to be in 10 minutes. Let’s hope you get the fun one, or the one who likes to hug, or the one who loves sex. Knowing your luck, you’ll get the one who cries all the time or the one who punches the wall (or herself)

“How are you?” I always just say I’m tired, which is code for “I don’t know.” How do I tell people that I am my own enigma? That’s why I started writing my feelings in this blog. That, and a diary doesn’t really cut it. Here I can write and erase and chop away, a diary is too final. I don’t like final. I was hoping to crack my own code. I wanted to learn about myself. I ended up being annoyed by how childish I am and how almost all of this revolved around boys or girls. I wish I had taken the time to be single and be on my own, at least for a little while. Not now, I mean, but it almost feels like I haven’t ever been single. Not since I was 17. It’s not as if I can’t define myself as someone outside of the relationship, I’m actually pretty good at that. It’s just, I never really learned to be alone and to enjoy myself. I’ve never done anything that I really want to do just because I really wanted to do it. Well, nothing spiritually rewarding, anyway. There’s always been someone, somewhere who was going to be the next one. That makes me feel horrible, really. I would stay with someone until something better came along? Who does that? I think this is the best thing I’ve ever had and I’m still trying to find ways to destroy it. Habitual self-saboteur extraordinaire.

So I just smoke weed to calm myself down. It keeps me in a perpetual state of non-plussed. It’s nice because, while people who don’t know me think that I don’t care, I secretly care too much. In trying to find and care for myself, I forget about other people. I forgot about my best friend, and my dad, and my brother. I forgot about the man who is in love with me and gave up so much to be with me. How do you stop being selfish? I’ve tried so hard but it doesn’t work.

No caption????

Pika-boobs

I found my old diary while packing. It was… interesting to say the least. There’s a pros and cons list comparing two possible suitors. The one on the left where is says “tries raping me” or whatever… funnily enough he did. I feel a lot happier in myself than I was back then and if I could, I would go back and just hug myself. It’s okay to be lonely. Treasure the time with yourself. Having a boyfriend isn’t the most important thing in the world. You’re beautiful and funny and charming and you will know it soon enough. Don’t hate yourself for crying. Don’t punish yourself for having emotions. Be strong but have the capacity for softness. I love you, me. You’ve come a long way.

Every Monday night

My colleague will message me with a voice clip of him singing along to the Game of Thrones theme. It’s amazing.

Hi, I miss you.

Yesterday I saw a man get hit in the head with a brick.

He didn’t die or even go unconscious but whatever. Everyone looked at me like I was the only person who could do something. I was already on the phone to the police, what more do you want? I wanted to cry and go home but I couldn’t. I don’t remember details like what anyone was wearing or how old. I couldn’t help. I guess I’m pretty shit in a crisis.