I thought I was getting better.
I guess I’m not.
Lately I’ve been feeling numb, almost like I can’t feel anything at all. I still cry, I just don’t know why;it’s not because I’m upset, I just burst into tears all of a sudden. Then again, it’s not exactly easy to ‘feel’ connected to people when you’re almost completely cut off from them.
The people I thought were my friends don’t seem the same anymore. Maybe because we’re growing up; everyone changes when they grow up, and we drift in and out of one another’s lives. I could be completely wrong, and I could be behind it all. Me being overly sensitive in previous conversations, or asking too much of other people. Either way, it feels like I’m doing something wrong.
I’m not sure what I’ve done wrong and, as they refuse to talk to me about it all, I’ll never know. Yet, I can’t shake the feeling that I am not good enough, and never will be.
The numbness is always there, even if nobody else notices. It’s always there, sinking into my skin, soaking my body. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I’ll be able to feel anything;pain and happiness alike are strangers to me. I can’t feel anything, and he could never truly understand the concept, as much as he tries. I told him I had fucked up again, like I always do. We always had minor arguments, but the last one was too much;he was right. I had nothing to complain about, and was being far too harsh. Maybe guilt has consumed me, and caused this numbness. Perhaps it refuses to let me feel anything else. My only regret is telling him I had done it again. I had been so utterly consumed by guilt that I didn’t care about the blood.
That just made everything worse.
He is ashamed of me. He won’t say as much, but why else would he refuse to talk to me? Arguments don’t upset him the way they upset me;he never tells me how he feels anyway. It’s almost like he doesn’t want me to be close to him. Like I’m not a good enough friend, and never will be.
I will always remember that I’m not good for him, at all, and I will never forget how much damage I did.
I mentioned in a previous post that I lost my closest friend to suicide.
Her name was Paige. She was a beautiful, 15-year-old girl, and I spent most of my time with her. We were like twins.
Paige…she didn’t seem to have any mental illnesses, but I guess that’s because it’s so easy to hide it. She was like a light;she always knew what to say, or what to do. Her life was a beautiful one-she had it good, but mental illnesses don’t care about your quality of life.
I never noticed anything wrong, or out of the ordinary.
It came as a complete shock to me when her mother told me she’d taken her own life. Maybe I was just so wrapped up in my own problems I was oblivious to everything else.
It didn’t really help that I was dealing with mental health issues of my own. She gave me her full attention-she always took the time to listen to me, and just sit with me, even when she could be doing something way more fun. I still sometimes think that her mental health suffered as a consequence of mine. It’s not exactly fair to load another person with your problems and expect them to be okay with it.
She was everything to me, and I still blame myself for it. It’s not been the same since.
Hey guys, so I was digging through some old stuff yesterday and I found a poem I wrote a month or so ago. It probably won’t make much of a difference, but I’m hoping it will make someone feel better about themselves;it always cheers me up when I read it.
Nobody likes me.
All my friends left me, and they’re having a great time without me.
I don’t see the point in hoping for things to get better when there’s nothing to hope for.
I have nothing.
Even the people I love leave me. I lost my closest friend to suicide.
They wouldn’t miss me;after all, I’m just an overly-serious, mentally unstable attention-seeker, who isn’t worth anyone’s time unless they can do something for them.