I woke up this morning and the first thought that came in to my head, as always, is that I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be in this house, in this city, in this country, in my life.
Feeling like this all the time just isn’t normal. There was a time when I was younger I could forget it all, brush off my worries with my friends and alcohol and even when I couldn’t, when it came down to the worse-than-usual days I had my friends to keep me going. I had 3 very good friends back then, 2 neighbours who I grew up with and a boyfriend of 4 years. When I moved away to a different country with my boyfriend who I shall name Fuck for privacy’s sake, everything changed. I expected we would grow apart a little but thought the friendship we shared was the sort that no matter how long you go without speaking you will always be content to sit in that comfortable silence with. The true kind. But after things went tits-up, when Fuck and I broke it off and I later had to come home, things had changed astronomically. I no longer have the close friendships, the knowledge that everything will be alright because of that one friend who gets you. I don’t even get myself, we kept each other going. And now I no longer have that. Having no friends to rely on is making my life go from shit to deadly. I sit in my house all day, looking for work, no money, no friends, no life.
I snap at my parent for nothing, why am I doing that? I’m 20 years old, I should have the decency to give them my attention when they expect it. I think it goes back to the past when there were oh-so many arguments, you see this parent is neurotic, they can’t help but worry, they are childish and have been for as long as I can remember. I try not to hold the past against them but I struggle, my life is my life, I have to deal with it I know. But I can’t.  I genuinely think if they stopped worrying they would drop dead.
It’s hard for me to say the right thing, to explain myself, the way I feel. When I attempt it, like now, I find I get writers block or something similar. I know what I want to say but can’t get it out. I attempt to exaplin but when I go over what I have written I find it doesn’t even touch the surface.
I need to get out of here, I don’t want to go back to the way I was when I was abusing my body but at the same time I do.Â
I know life isn’t meant to be easy but surely it isn’t meant to be this hard. To get through just one day without thinking, remembering, feeling.
I need to find out who I am, what I want. But that’s the thing- I ahve tried for so many years to figure out who I am. I’m not one for baring my soul or for asking for help. I was strong once, where did that person go and how do I find her again ?