Just sinking so low. I haven’t written in my journal (which I’ve kept since I was 15) since that night. that fact in itself scares me. I don’t want death, I’m certain of it, not when my head is clear. But I just urt so bad, nearly every morning I wake up and brace myself for the wave of misery, hope it’ll be over fast and won’t keep welling up on and off all day.
I am… no nice way to put it, I am a failure. I’ll be 29 tomorrow. I ave never been able to have a relationship in my life: just the idea makes me feel dirty and invaded. Except for him, I never loved anyone, not that way. It was as lonely and distressing and bloody boring as it sounds. Imagine your life, minus every loving moment, every intimacy. Nice, isn’t it? Every bit of sexual contact experienced as a terrifying violation. Every compliment making you feel ashamed.
Only he make me feel complete. And he doesn’t love me. or want to be in the same room as me or speak to me. i drag that around every second of the day. every day I spend doing nothing; cleaning fucking offices, because a) my paranoia is so bad I just can’t be in a context where I’m required to take on any real responsibility b) the only tools I ave to save myself demand a certain amount of free time. sorry mum for all that money spent providing me with an enviable education. sorry extra sorry for whatever dreams you had for me when I was tiny. i’m so sorry mum and dad, for being 29 and so weak I can’t be normal, i’m letting my life fall into blackness over a man who doesn’t love me, i don’t mean to be this way.
For them I won’t do anything really terrible. i can’t bring that on them daughter dead of suicide no no they deserve so much better
so i maybe shouldn’t be writing here when i’m trying to remind myself to STAY ALIVE JUST CLING TO WHATEVER HOPE YOU CAN SCROUNGE I suppose I’m just writing because I miss mulling business over in my journal. But I’m afraid to even look at it now. it hurts too much.
So that’s today. 29 tomorrow. Scared of my own thoughts, scared of what a man miles away may do next, that e’ll hurt me more without even knowing it, strip away even the thin hopes I still possess. Clinging the hell on. That’s all.
Love you darling. love you still after all this time
1 comment
“STAY ALIVE JUST CLING TO WHATEVER HOPE YOU CAN SCROUNGE” is the best reason for writing here. You aren’t alone on SP, trust me….most of us are scrounging at this point, like the birds in ‘Life of Brian’ 🙂
Well, not to spread gloom and doom, but loss of love, especially unrequited love, is probably the biggest cause of misery among us humans. So your feelings are completely valid.