Puzzled.

.
It doesn’t make ANY sense to keep on living after this so-called “life” took away my best years…
When I was 18, I should be graduating… Going to college… Dating someone worthy, and building a sweet future.
Instead, eversince grade 10 I started having too much difficulty in understanding what was on the text of the work I had to complete.
Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t doing any drugs back then, it simply wasn’t happening for me. The only time I ever had a contact with
something of the kind, was 2 months before I’d end my high-school carrer (I smoked a simple joint and that was it – due to peer pressure plus coming from
a close “friend” at the time ).
Later on, I moved, hoping for a better future, and ended up having a sorry academic future. It’s not a matter of investment I guess, and maybe
if I had no investment I would have even less of the least amount of intelligence that I already have.
I had some “success” at a summer camp I used to go. Everyone thought I was beautiful and fun. Obviously, I had some counter issues with that.
Every normal date I’d get would simply disappear after kissing me once or
twice. Seems they only cared about the status-quo of kissing a good-looking/popular lady. I’d get heartbroken, and lonely, then some other
gentleman would show up and express how much they wanted to be with me. I’d believe that, and soon enough they’d leave, since
what they truly wanted was to simply do the same thing that the heartbreakers did.
Oh I felt so misused. I started dreaming about a perfect date, and started to fall in love with beautiful ones instead. The beautiful
girl, with the most beautiful guy. I was then able to date, but nothing lasted long enough. Our dates where empty, filled with false
promises and too much hope of my part. Sometimes I’d be alone in a situation, without anyone who would give me credit or support.
As you can imagine, the ones who misused me, went on afterwards spreading the news about how they were lucky for being with me.
Other possible candidates would be hypnotized by their rumors and hence would approach me in order to be “the lucky one instead”.
I, as a great fool, would keep on dreaming about the perfect romance, and therefore painting that reality on the momentary false
prince that showed up.
Sometimes I would be dating someone for a little longer, and I would soon break up with them, because I was tired of not being taken to
the movies, to dine out, to meet their parents or whatever. It was just always casual dates, and vain compliments coming from the same
individual. I just felt like I didn’t belong. I was a hopeless romantic.
Now, I’m simply disgusted by the word “romance”. And honestly, I couldn’t care
less if another fool showed up saying that he was The One. I know of so many unfaithful people, who have deceived everyone and
are leading an extra affair. I don’t believe in my own dreams anymore, I guess they were my own. I can’t let go though of the fact that
I could’ve really have gotten to live the perfect love. I had it all. Why would a lady like myself: full of love, hope, faith and happiness (back then),
be so misused and every time? Even if I thought that the date was worthless and got out of it right away, the next one wouldn’t be different.
I thought that maybe it could be a age thing.. So I dated younger ones. I have to say that the younger ones were much less abusive, easy-going,
devoted, and we would have so much fun together by hanging out. On the back of my mind I thought about “growing up together with the one I love”.
If I was the creator of my own story, I know it would’ve been beautiful. I’d grow up with the one I loved and as years went by we would be more and more
of best friends, know each other for real, have so many moments together, and then one day we would finally get married and have a beautiful and blessed family.
I knew that I wouldn’t be able to achieve it if it wasn’t with someone who was younger and hadn’t dated much.
Younger ones would go to the movies, hold hands and all that cute stuff. Hang out at other nice places, spend time hugging and gazing into my eyes.
They would be shy and celebrate about our get together. I thought it was awesome.
The problem was that I was already carrying a baggage of failed relationship attempts, and an extra knowledge of how evil it could all be, and so I wouldn’t be able
to live it out with so much passion and love. I would start completely amazed, but every time that someone wouldn’t answer the phone, or disappear for a few days I’d then start
rejecting them, I guess in a way to protect my self. I’d move around a lot, that would contribute to the fact that I wasn’t able to “root” potentially good relationships.
I’m not going to even start to describe how it is to date an older one, given that it was the most hurtful, deceitful, and  bad kind of dating
(take into account that when I mean “older ones”, I mean someone who would be up to 5 years older than me). No beautiful sweet and young girl can
survive on the hands of the “barbarian”. They will make you turn into something you are not, without notice. If I asked myself “why am I here? why is this happening?”, there is no
reply, there is the simple action of harassment. That’s how unwanted things would take place, which would always cause the feeling of misery and increased self-worthlessness
inflicted upon myself.
Now let’s begin on the subject “friendship”. Okay, I grew up having a great sense of what it means to be and have a friend. I thought friendship was a must.
I had too many destructive “friendships” on the record later on though. It was all about having a nice time, but in reality, it was all about having someone around who would
take me down on a quicksand.
I had a house party once and all of a sudden people would start “the drinking game”. I got there but I just had one or two drinks on a shot glass. That was enough for me to get
buzzed, and I thought that the taste was terrible, which caused me to reject the possibility of drinking strong drinks ever again.
I had another house party and the bar was made up with sweet-flavoured drinks. I thought they were awesome! They would have condensed milk added to them, and fruits, and
tasty juice, some with top coverings. I’d love it. The problem was that being a novice drinker I thought that by having a minimal reduced taste of alcohol that the drinks weren’t
going to get me drunk. So I would drink them and feel “happier”, and without a notice I’d end up drinking several and then getting drunk.
This happened to me once, and the “friend” I was with, disappeared with some guy. I went searching for her, with the increased level of
“happiness” from being buzzed, and finally found her out. I called her to go back (since we were spending our vacation together), and she said:
Hey, this is “….” (can’t recall his name) and that loser introduced himself and a while later said: ah you are such a fun person, look have this 🙂
He gave me a piece of paper with drawings on it, which i thought it was bubblegum and was about to eat it all at once. He saw what I was doing and stopped me, and said:
nooo, you can’t eat it all. Look, I’ll give you a tiny bit. (And I thought he was just joking or something). But I ate it. For the record, half an hour later I’d start feeling funny symptoms like
an increased temperature on my body, and the will to walk and run away. All of a sudden I was struck with intense hallucinations for the next 12 hours. The girl came back after me,
and explained to me that he told her it was a drug named Lsd. I was shocked and crazy at the same time, so I immediately called a “friend” and asked: what can I do? I’m on the beach
on this summer vacation and I had Lsd! The friend replied: wow what are you complaining about, enjoy! make sure you drink lots of water and have in mind that none of what seems
real actually is. Thankfully I was able not to do anything crazy and I even kept the friend from doing something crazy herself (she wanted to go swimming in the ocean until she reached
the horizon). Obviously that was not the right advice or help I earned, but afterwards I was just too afraid of sharing that with anyone, since I already had such a hard time because of a miserable
joint. After that (together with the being taken out of school because I was an academic failure, having failed relationship attempts, and having had gone out of my house)
I certainly did lost my initial identity and felt much more careless about things and it seems that my intelligence fluttered out of me. I developed a taste for drinking, and
when I least expected I’d be drunk and trying out different things with the people from the club. I’d suffer from it all, but it seems like I already had developed an addiction therefore I’d act
normal on it. Like it was my real life to be on a never-ending high-paranoid cycle. I kept on adding a hope to myself: If I met with my childhood friends, the ones which knew me, I’d
probably be loved for who I am, and all of this will fade away with time.
Little did I know that my dream would come true. I even prayed on a desperate cry: God, why is this world so unfair and why do I only have by my side people who are so destructive?
Why?
Okay, so my “heroes” showed up, and ended up simply meeting me on the worst state of my life. That’s “how lucky” I got. Some even tried to talk me out of it ( I tried going cold-turkey and all and
just ended up being thrashed by the attempt, and ended up then on some medicine

prescribed, which was only the cherry top on the out of reality state I encountered myself in),
but the majority just had a laugh and spread rumors I believe. No one cared.

On all this transition I was 18-19 years old.
Then I’d just be a walking aberration. All of my events would be re-created on my present tense as a false memory of who I really was not.
The medicine just drived me crazy, and I gained extra few pounds at the time.

I threw it all away and begun smoking again. Afterwards, I’d end up partying. Not that I was actually partying, it was just that I had no friends nor a real life anymore.
The increased amount of failure I was, was replaced by an enormous amount of hope. How irrelevant that is. I tried going to school again…

But well, how would someone who got invited to leave
school when they were 17,  succeed on school when they were 21 and all broken from all these issues? I obviously lasted nothing more
than up to 2 months.
I still had that dream though: to finish highschool.

I embarked on an adventure of going to the States (I’m originally

from Brazil but I’ve always attended American International Schools).

It didn’t work out and I ended up having the misfortune encounter with a criminal disguised as a driver,
who deceived me and robbed my apartment, a lousy neighbor – let’s not even mention the so called “friends” I met over there. Severe dehydration from food poisoning, the H1N1 flu and gosh I don’t know what. I was trying to build myself up again.
All of a sudden I get arrested for overdosing on hallucinogenic drugs (part of the attempt against me I suffered), end up on a loony bin, embarrassed once

again in front of my family. And guess what with some corporeal damage I’ve been trying to get over since then – 8 months ago.
I won’t deny that some progress has been achieved eversince then…

I have all support from my parents, people who pray for me, I managed

to get my highschool diploma, I have a good financial support… It’s just

that as I’ve stated, some damage is making me feel sorry for myself.

I was supposed to be a different person at this age. When I was 8 years

old, I survived a car accident that almost took my life. I flew out of

the car’s window, and ended up at the hospital getting 45 stiches on my

head. I lead a normal life afterwards though! My walking ability remained

perfect, I went to school normaly, my hair grew all normally.. I was all into

gymnastics, and living life to the fullest! I was a pretty, sweet girl. The car

accident had no effect on my life, because I FULLY recovered, in 8

days I was out of the hospital, out of a coma, perfect. It was a miracle.

I was proud of myself for having had accomplished that, and thankful.

But now, these unexpected contact with the highschool

drop-out (I moved to 5 different countries due to my dad’s job and that’s

why I guess I lost track of the subjects that were taught due to the constant

school changes I had to go through), and UNWANTED drug experience

(the lsd story…), got me completely out of the way I was, and even

physically I lost my abilities. (Good reflexes, good body balance + coordination,

great energy, an excelent humor, spontaneous remarks).

I have a memory impairment and a fragility on my cervical spine.

I’m not saying I give up, I’m just saying I will not live this way, losing each day more and more. Unlike after my car accident, I haven’t fully recovered.

I hope that forgiveness is a reality, and salvation is waiting with arms wide open.

I’m not feeding or drinking water, because I’m not going to keep feeding a lie,

I lost my appetite.

I am so impressed on how smoothly I was able to describe all those experiences. I guess I’m in denial about all that recent stuff that happened to me, and

will always be.

I’m so sorry I was a hopeless romantic on myself, instead of living all the beauty I had inside my heart in real life.
I had a decision:

#1 – keep on living: a lie and be farther and farther away from where I belonged, enduring with endless unanswered prayers which were a cry for help, losing my family in a near-future due to the aging of time, and end up even more alone and thrashed. (My mom was diagnosed with a severe condition that is life-threatning

on her stomach. All I can think is how weak I am, how weak she is, that I might

soon lose her, and I’ll lose what matters the most to me too.)

or
#2 – simply die and let go of the future expectations – more and more toughness, losses, tragedies and heartbreaks (some say that’s a hell deserving sinner, I’m not sure, but what if?!?!). Losing it all was/is very tough already to me. I look in the mirror and I don’t see my self anymore, I see this stranger person that I

hate so much. I don’t have any will of helping this unwelcome being of the reflection (why “unwelcome”? Well,

because obviously it wasn’t my greatest pursuit to go from my own

good normal happy life, to a life restricted to having lost my normal ability to function, for being at the wrong place at the wrong time, with bad companions. I feel like “wow, I can’t believe I went from Top to bottom pit”

or

#3 – Continue this treatment that I got which is “biomolecular medicine”,

and do the spinal fisiotherapy they reccomended, hold my mom while

she lasts and encourage her to keep on living and give her hopes that

she might get healed, believe in miracles (given that I lived

one when I got rescued of the car accident),

and accept the fact that I AM who I look at the mirror and see for now.

Have no guarantee of a future, let it all in the hands of GOD.

(This was the option I should choose, and yet it seems to be the

hardest.)

Plus, I’m stuck being this for 24/7. WHY would “I” live? I’m not this person, I feel like I’m dead eversince 2005.

Ps: I’m 24 years old.

Present moment:

My mom is deeply worried and keeps on coming inside my room,

bringing all sort of foods and going on about “why are you like this,

and bla bla bla” – which makes me feel worst obviously.

My dad keeps on encouraging me to a live this awesome life, which

I CAN’T not because I don’t want to, but because I can’t. He doesn’t

comprehend that I’ve lost my abilities to function as I did. His

encouragement makes me feel like I’m trapped inside this room,

loosing all the opportunities I have in life. But the thing is, I don’t

have these opportunities. “I” has. The damaged version of myself

is nothing more than a viewer of the good offerings of a “could be”.

My “lovely” sister used to look up to me, and nowadays she came

to me and said: I promised myself I’m never going to end up like

you. (throwing in my face that I failed in so many aspects on life)

My aunt visited my home and asked about the tatoo I have on my wrist,

what does it mean. I told her, it’s the word “Somnium” (which you

can read that is the nickname I have over here)….In latin it means:
A dream – the dreaming state; the semiconscious state between sleeping

and waking.

She said: oh but that has got nothing to do with you!

SHE didn’t understand I wasn’t pointing to material accomplishments,

instead of how I live these dreams inside my mind, over and over again,

instead of embracing the cruel reality.

Anyways, so I ended up eating a fruit. I know for sure tomorrow I’ll be

weaker, and that I’ll just pass out suddenly and they are going to hospitalize

me. Actualy they want to get me to a hospital if I don’t improve.

I feel like getting a bite and give a deeper thought on things.

At least try to figure this out better.

This site made me reflect on the fact that there are much bigger

problems than my own, and people are fighting to overcome them

somehow. And the thing of the weighing out the probabilities that

cause you to be where you are… I’m might give it a go.