I don’t recall what I wanted to say exactly here. I’ve wanted to disappear for a large majority of my life. It’s just something I’ve always dealt with. I always find ways to cope. That’s why I’m still here. I’m a survivor. I even survive myself. I’m in college now. I’m half way across the country from my family. I changed myself because no one here knew me. I thought if I could be the sort of person that everyone loved, it would fix this problem inside me. But it didn’t. Because it’s hard for someone to love you when they don’t know you. And no one knows me. I suppose that’s really all I want. I think I’ve convinced myself over time that if someone could love me, everything would be better. If someone could really love me for who I was.
I’ve let my grades slip. I’ve been letting my teeth decay for years on purpose. I guess, to punish myself. I barely notice the pain anymore, so it really doesn’t work now. I used to sleep near fifteen hours a day to cope. I used to watch anime for twelve to sixteen hours at a time, trying to hide in things that weren’t real and didn’t make me think. When I was a child, I did the same with reading. I collect things now. I’ve immersed myself in this particular subject. I study it, I eat it, I breathe it, I learn everything I can about it. I organize it all into these extensive charts and lists. Because if I focus on that, I don’t have to focus on my problems.
My father died this past summer. He went to prison when I was very young. I didn’t know him. But I’m still dealing with the loss. The loss of the opportunity, I guess. I’d always meant to see him. I tried to have him cremated. I didn’t have the money. My grandmother wouldn’t lend it to me. She bought a condo a few months later. He was buried in an unmarked grave, and all I have are the work boots he died in. I guess I’m still suffering from that pretty badly. I don’t fit in here. I can’t assimilate to the culture. That depresses me. But now I can’t assimilate to my original culture either. When I visit, I’m very obviously different – more so than I already was. I’m stuck somewhere between. I feel lost, I think. I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going or even who I am. And no one can help me with that.
I want to pick up and move again. To a new place where no one knows me. Somewhere I can become someone else. I’ve always wondered, can I manage that? Is that how I can get through my life? When one identity runs out, would it be possible for me to invent a new one. I can only handle so much life. So, if one wears out, why can’t I just make a new one? If that keeps me from killing myself, is it okay to lie to people and myself? I’m not even sure I have a self to lie to, actually. I don’t feel like there’s anything inside me. I’m like some kind of Xerox machine. I take in everything I see and hear and I try to piece these things together to create a person who is functional in this world. But she can only hold up so long before the stitches come apart. I ask myself everyday what I’m missing. Because all the people I meet, they seem to have something that I don’t. And if I could just so much as see what that is, maybe I can copy that too. Then I’ll be a real person, right?
I guess, I rambled. I’ve tried to kill myself a few times, but I never carry through with it. I don’t really want to die. I just don’t want to be here anymore. To die is against my nature. But I don’t want to be alone anymore. And it’s very lonely inside a hollow shell. I wish I had someone to tell me not to wish these things. Someone who needed me to be here for them. Someone who would be devastated if I were suddenly just gone. Is it very selfish to want someone to need you? Sometimes I feel like it is. Like I’m asking too much. It’s not likely I’ll ever give in to the urge to erase myself from this world, but that doesn’t make the urge go away. And it’s very exhausting dealing with it. That slows me down. And then I fail. And the depression kicks in, like it has now. And I want to stop being here again. That’s how I ended up here. I don’t expect anyone to get through this whole thing. I just needed to put it somewhere so it might stop investing my mind for a little while.
1 comment
i completely relate and understand how you feel… unfortunately i dont have an answer. sorry. i wish i could help for some reason, even tho i dont know you and i might kill myself anyways… wish you good luck on your journey.