It’s been a very, very long time. Last time I posted something, I was a freshman in high school and my mom had just left.
I am now a senior in high school, hoping to graduate, and struggling. I somehow turned into one of those kids that don’t try in school. The ones that go to school with bruised knuckles after having punched a wall out of anger. I thought that was incredibly stupid of them. Now I’m typing with bruised knuckles, a result of anger. Not anger at the life that was given me, but at myself.
So much crap has happened over the years, so I’ll try to keep it simple. For any of you who care.
Mom left to Mexico, I moved in with my dad. After a while I started to couch surf at my sisters’ places. I stayed at one of their places too long, we ended up hating each other for a while, moved back with my dad. Started staying at ANOTHER sister’s place, never went back home again. Dad rented his house to someone else, moved in with uncle in the next town. I secretly moved in with my boyfriend, turned eighteen, told my dad after a while. I dropped college, decided to concentrate on high school, didn’t concentrate on high school, had many breakdowns until, a couple of days ago, I had a mental meltdown. I go batshit insane trying to kill myself, stopping myself, regretting stopping myself, trying to convince myself, stopping again.
I stopped talking for a short bit. I stopped singing at the college Jazz choir. I completely stopped functioning. My chest would hurt once in a while, sharp shooting pains, when I tried to think and sort things out. I couldn’t feel music anymore, I still can’t. I can’t taste food. I can’t laugh very much. I can’t. Can’t.
Tony helped me go to the doctor. After all of these years, I’ve forgotten I was sick. He didn’t know I was sick. At least, he didn’t think I was serious. Now he’s scared as hell but he manages to still laugh a little and joke a little. I forget that I’m sick. When he makes me giggle I still hurt, and the giggle feels like a sob stuck in my throat. Am I really sick? He’s been by my side most of the time since it happened. He’s cradled me and held my hand and made me food and brushed my hair. Tomorrow I work and I’m a little scared of leaving his side. I was terrified today when I was going to the college for choir. I feel like a baby, weening.
I’ve finally been sleeping. And I’ve been letting him sleep too. Before this, I was terrified of sleep. I felt like I was losing time. But I’ve finally been sleeping. I am so exhausted. I am tired every second of the day. But I can finally close my eyes, with less regret.