So here’s the thing. I hurt all the time, hurt from my head to my toes, just hurt everywhere and all the time. As cliché as this sounds it is literally as if there is something or part of my heart missing. I am also very lonely. I really want someone who will care for me, hold me as I start to cry, someone to tell me that I am perfect, beautiful.
I can be anyone be anyone I want to be, I can be the bad girl, the good girl, the messed up girl, the girl who doesn’t have a care. I don’t know who the real me is anymore because I have become what other people want me to be, not who I want to be.
Im not really sure where I went wrong, not sure when I stopped caring, stopped being happy and stopped being me. The thing I want most is to feel loved, I want to love and not be hurt. I want to be respected and treated right –it’s not really a big ask I don’t think, but somehow It never happens. It hurts the most when I am alone in the dark and the tears start to fall and I have no one to tell me that is going to be ok and that all the shit I deal with it will go away, not forever but to a place where I can deal with it.
I hate my reflection; in fact it makes me sick. Every time I see myself I think who could love this? Why would anyone want to love this? I have lied and I have sinned – a lot more than most people. I have done things I regret. Perhaps me feeling this way is punishment for my sins. Maybe there is hope for me.
My head is always talking, whispering lies in my ear. It drives me absolutely crazy but that mainly because I believe what it is saying. When Im really lonely I have conversations with myself, they are not very interesting and we always end up arguing, which makes me sad because then I am alone again. In case you haven’t realised by now, I am very, very, very lonely.
I also feel very isolated; it feels like being trapped in a bubble. Except you can’t pop this bubble it is unbreakable, indestructible. So I live my life in this bubble. It is in this bubble I cannot breathe. I find myself holding my breath at times, not on purpose – I simply forget to breathe. I wonder why that is; maybe it is my body preparing me for death.
The day I go will be the day that I come to terms with myself and I think I will be at peace. I talk about my death as if it is impending, as if it near. That’s because it is. I will never grow old. It does make me sad but I have had a long time to think about it and I am ok with it. I think it has something to do with Charles Darwin’s theory to do with “survival of the fittest”, I am simply not as strong as the rest – I was not born to survive.
I remember when I was little and the biggest decision I had to make was who I sat next to at lunch o in class. I look at my decisions I have to make and it hurts my head. I have to choose a path that leads to my future. Problem is I really can’t see my future
I know I am sounding really selfish, especially when I say I want to die. I know you are probably thinking “there are so many people that love me and would miss me”, maybe there is. But you also have to try and understand that I have been dead inside for a long time and for me to keep going on with this thing called “life” would be just the same as being dead.
I dream to fly. When I am alone flying I feel truly happy. I belong in the sky. I kind of wish that I was going to heaven, because then I would be able to stay in the sky forever. I understand what happens in the sky- everything is simple. When I am in the sky I feel superior, above everyone. Not in a weird powerful way but just above everyone. Above everyone in such a way where their words cannot hurt me, where their actions cannot pain me and where I am simply at peace.
Ghandi once said that everything you do in life will be insignificant but you must still do it anyhow. I don’t think that is what he said word for word but is something along those lines. This used to be my favourite quote, but now it seems so insignificant to me. Why should I even bother doing things that are not going to make any difference to anyone or anything? I am not going to do something major in life. I will not cure cancer; I will not win a Nobel Prize or land on mars.
My mum is so controlling of my life so much so that I feel like she is inside me – watching my every move. Every time I breathe I feel like she is doing it for me. Everything I see I feel like I am seeing it through her eyes. It is debilitating and demoralising and makes me feel like and object – not a person.
I want to be free and right now dying is the only way I can be this. I want people to stop telling me it going to be alright – it’s not and Im not alright. Nobody has even noticed, they probably wouldn’t even care.
Im sick of life. Im sick of people. FUCK YOU ALL. You all treat me like shit, despite the fact I would stand by you through everything and anything. You all have fucked me over. This is it.
The end is near, not now, but soon.
Who’s the one laughing now??