161204

I want to get hit by a truck.
I'm so goddamn tired. I can't do this. I can't pretend like I would want to be here. Like I'd want to do this. Like I'd want to be me. I don't want this life. I don't. I just really don't. I hate it. I just look at my calendar and loathe every upcoming day until the end of the year. Each and every one of them just looks like a day to struggle through.
What am I even doing this all for?
I can't keep on going like this. Or if I do I can hardly see myself going past 26 without a complete meltdown. Maybe that would be good. Then I could just be. I'm a failure already anyway. What would it change? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

161123

Today has been weird. I suppose the past weeks have been weird. I keep living in a roller coaster where I feel everything and nothing and everything and nothing.
Currently I don't feel particularly depressed. I got over that a couple of days ago. Instead my mood is gray. With a hint of blue. I feel and I don't. I can't get excited even if I want to. We will go and see a movie tomorrow. A movie I can remember being so very excited about at some point. Now I just feel.. indifferent. And I wouldn't like to. I would like to be excited. Thrilled. But I'm not. The same happened with our trip abroad this weekend. I had a good time, I did. But part of the trip I just felt like I wasn't there. I suppose it's the anxiety that keeps me disconnected from the reality. It just doesn't seem like my life. This doesn't seem like me. Something is so horribly off and yet I don't know why. I'm just not here.
I've also been dizzy for around four days now. It's like this slightly hazy feeling that I have in my head the whole time. I hope that would stop too. Trying to iron it down but so far it doesn't seem too effective. But maybe it will work eventually.

161114

I forgot to buy dinner. I was supposed to I forgot. I feel like an idiot. Did the same on Friday.. Thursday I can't really remember. I think I had lunch.
I've been thinking if I should start a meal diary. Just to try to write up the things I eat during the day. If it would make me more aware of it. But then again I'm afraid it will only make me more anxious. If I need to write everything down, what will I eat anymore.. Everything sounds unhealthy. Even now, I think I've gained weight. Complete lack of self-control. All I want is chocolate.

I'm just tired. All I want to do is sleep. I want to cut all social contacts to people. I don't want to. It's exhausting. Tiring. No one understands. I shouldn't have even said anything. God I'm an idiot.
I just wish I could stop thinking. Switch off my head. Be like fuck it and never talk again. Why do I have to try this hard? Right now I see no point. The future is just a blur. If anything, it makes me anxious.

Sometimes I just really want some help. I want someone to remind me to eat, take me to the store and let me sit on their lap. But I know it will never happen. I will never tell anyone. I will just keep swallowing it all down.
Life is tiring and I just want someone to hold me.

160606

This day has been extraordinarily great.
I just wrote it an hour ago. I knew I shouldn't have.
It feels like it's probably hiding behind some corner. Laughing when I write down words like those. Laughing with its little sharp teeth showing. You just wait and see. It lurks and waits. It's patient. And once you have basked in your happiness for a moment, it strikes. And makes your chest hurt so badly it's hard to breathe.

I just wish that one day I could wake up and not deal with this. What have I done to deserve this... I had three days off last week and nevertheless I'm so tired that it's ridiculous.
If someone sells bottled happiness, I would like to buy it.

160418

The fun thing about getting completely anxious in the middle of the night without a good reason is that it's much harder to get your head out of the gutter than it is during the daytime. I hope you can hear the overwhelming sarcasm in my voice. I don't even know where it started. Or well,maybe I do. I started thinking about CDs. And then suddenly my head is filled with filth and I feel like choking. Even the softly breathing little fluff next to me doesn't help to soothe the feeling. There is a lump in my throat that I cannot swallow. And  my experience I know that the lump will turn into a pain in my chest that feels like it could crush my rib cage under it. But it doesn't. Instead it feels like pushing it inwards until all my inner organs squeeze and I start feeling panicky. Fun times.

By all means my life should be pretty good right now. I got a place to study. I graduated. I'm alive. Things are going fairly well. And yet I seem to be hunted by the negatives. Tiny, meaningless little things keep drilling themselves into my skull until I just have to notice them. And by that I mean panic. Or get depressed. Both are equally great options according to my head. That's why sometimes it's fun to do them both at the same time.

On some level I feel terribly drained. And I don't know how to get myself out of this bottomless swamp. I want to talk but I don't know where to start. What's wrong? I don't even know the answer properly myself..

Oh. And for some reason I have started feeling guilt about not being social. This is new. Totally new. I am not quite sure what to do with it.

160103

A sudden anxiety about the future has hit me.

It makes me suddenly want to cry at half past eleven at night because I feel so uncertain about everything. I have less than two months left here. What will I go back to?

I can't even express the hollow feeling in the back of my head.

On one hand I am looking forward to going home. I am looking forward to meeting my friends again and sharing all the stories we've missed. I am looking forward to hugs and laughs and silly movie nights with too much food. I am looking forward to long walks and meals in McD's and the stupid jokes.

On the other hand I dread for the idea. I don't have a job. I don't have an apartment. I don't have a school to return to. I have nothing. And the thought drives me insane.

What do I have?

What will I do?

What do I want?

Who am I?

151114

Sometimes I wonder why do I try?

Why do I try to be nice with people? Why do I expect them to like me? Why do I think that I or my doings actually could make a difference or change something? I don't know.

I am the kind of person that everyone loves to talk to yet I'm also the person who's easiest to throw away. I'm the person that when you're having a hard time it's easy to come to me but when everything's fine i's easy just trash me together with the rest of the garbage. I am the kind of person that everyone keeps as long as it suits them. I'm the one they talk to when it happens to be convenient. 

I'm good for nothing. So it seems and feels.

Why do I bother trying when I can't get anything right? 

I should just isolate myself from everyone.

There's a big bunch of hidden feelings inside of me.

I think I'm actually so fucking angry. 

But I just can't let it out.

So I seal it into a nice little package and push aside.

For everyone else's convenience.

Sometimes I feel like a fucking sociopath.

151103

I should have never expected that I matter in the first place. 

Whatever. You don't need me. You don't care for me. You're not interested. 

I should have known. 

How stupid can one be? 

My favourite hobby seems to be creating false trust. As if I was something that mattered. 

As if. 

150828

Today has been a ride. Up and down up and down again.

It's amazing how a couple of words can change a thing you were excited just seconds ago to something that you want to just trash and never look at again. 

Sometimes I wonder why I do this. Why do I dress "weird"? Why can't I have a normal taste, put on jeans and a t-shirt that 20 000 other people do to and just be pleased with it. Be a fucking clone. I don't mind a joke. I really don't. But I don't want to hear it from you. There are already tons and tons of people out there who like laughing at the way I look and making rude comments. Don't laugh too. Youu're supposed to be here to support me. I rely on you. You are not supposed to be like them. I don't want you to joke about it. 

I don't expect you to dress like me. I don't expect you to love everything I wear. But I do wish you'd appreciate the fact that the way I dress makes me happy. I know how to dress appropriate when I'm at work or go out on town with you so you shouldn't give a rat's ass what I wear when I'm by myself.

But if you insist on seeing the piece of clothing I bought just to make a stupid joke about it.. Please don't bother. I don't need that. I really don't. I've heard enough of it already to last for a lifetime and yet I know there will be a bunch of comments again more next time. 

I know I'm being sensitive and ridiculous but I've been crying for twenty minutes now.

And I just don't think that's fair.

150611

Right now I feel like smashing my head against a wall might be a great idea.

I sincerely hope tomorrow's better.

I'm so tired of this.

I'm so tired of being incompetent in everything.

Why do you do this to me? Do you have any idea how bad it feels?

I wanna go to bed and not wake up.

It's summer and I shouldn't be depressed.

But look where we are.

150607

I don't know what I've done to deserve this.

Aparently, probably, something.

I want to sleep for the next 5 years and then possibly wake up. Possibly.

I am so incredibly tired I want to cry. But I doubt that would help so I won't.

I would just really like to know.. why me? Why? 

I want to shut my phone and lock myself up in my room.

I am no good for anything or anyone anyway.

Why the fuck do I even try..

I crave so much to be asked about how I feel.

But if someone did, I'd lie anyway.

I'm fine. I'm always just fine.

150530

It feels like I never do anything right.
I should never tell anyone anything about myself or what I do.
That way maybe I wouldn't be screwing up all the time.
I'm tired of feeling guilty about everything I do.
I'm tired of feeling guilty about just existing.
It was not my choice. It was not my choice.

I have tried to be nice. I have tried to understand.
I have tried to listen. I have tried to help.
I have tried to be good.
And still there is guilt weighting on my shoulders all the time.Do you know how exhausting it is?

I feel like every word I say might be wrong.
That in everything I say might lie another possibility for the guilty feeling.

I would like to talk to someone. Tell them how I feel. How bad it is. But how could I ever?
So I just try to fix up my facade and remind myself to smile.

150402

I feel like I'm becoming worse and worse when it comes to opening up to people.
I've become a chronic liar.
They are not big things. They are small things, tiny stuff. Nothing that really matters. But I keep doing it. Yes I ate, yes I went there, oh yeah I'm doing that, I'm going there. No I'm not. I just say it because it's easy. It slips off my lips before I even notice it. I get so anxious about things that don't even matter. It's ridiculous.
Mentally I'm so exhausted that all I wanna do is lie in bed. And I can't do even that because doing it makes me anxious and I start feeling guilty. So I keep pacing around the apartment nervously or do something that doesn't really matter. I feel so paranoid that it would make me laugh if it wasn't so utterly pitiful.

It sounds cruel but sometimes I just wish I could stop caring about people. That I could stop caring about anyone and just close up and close my ears and never care about anything again. Caring is making me tired. Exhausted. It's draining me.

I don't really know what to do with my life.
I don't wanna know what happens if I don't get that job.
I'm so tired I don't even seem to feel anymore. Everything's gray.
I got my thesis written today. For a moment I smiled and then it was gone. Everything's gray.

150324

I have 30 pages of thesis written plus 2-page table of contents. Maybe this thing will even eventually get finished.. That doesn't stop me from stressing about it though. I am constantly afraid that it's all just bullshit and I've done something so utterly wrong it can't be fixed. Sucks to be paranoid.

I'm still stressed about getting a job for summer too. Only rejection letters so far and every single one of them makes me want to cry like no tomorrow. God damn am I not good enough for anywhere...

All that aside, the sun is shining. And just minutes ago it was raining.
That is beautiful. Ah.

I feel so useless. 

I'll never be anything. 

I'll never matter. 

That's just how it goes. 

150303

Is my suffering not good enough for you?

You won't even share your pain with me anymore. You may read my messages and answer days later if even then. I feel like I'm not good enough for you anymore. Am I not broken enough?
I don't have the discipline I'd need. Would I spark your interest again if I...
Did you only like me because I was so broken?
I still am. For now I've just glued myself together for a while. But I suppose it looks whole if you look at it from that far away. Why are you running from me? I feel like I can't reach you anymore...

Maybe I'm overreacting. Paranoid as usual.
But it still hurts.
I feel frustrated.

Please notice me. I feel so abandoned. 

150128

It's hard to even explain how utterly uncomfortable I feel in my body right now. I am also tired of social contact.

I just want to stay inside my apartment and not get out. I don't want anyone to see me. I don't want to see anyone. I want to be alone. I want to be alone until I feel better and less tired. Until I feel like I can be around people without being completely paranoid about how horrible I look. 

I hate my head so much. 

I also hate the fact how difficult it is to explain. 

A couple of nights ago I was standing at a rock and just thought. What if I just fell down from here? How many bones would I break?

I don't want to die. I want to get hospitalised. 

Because it's much easier to explain to people that you have a broken leg and can't do a thing instead of trying to explain that my mind is so sick it keeps me from leaving my bed. 

150111

One of the nights that I think I'm in serious need of help.

I will drown. And I will do so quietly. And no one will ever notice. Because I can't get any of it out.

No one will ever really know because I can't really tell.

I feel frustrated. Useless.

What good am I if I can't even help them feel better..

Just give it all to me. I will carry it. I will fucking carry it. I will.

Just leave them alone.

141123

I've lost 5kg of weight

And despite that it still takes a pretty sharp 0,7 seconds for me to start regretting every piece of food I've ever put in my mouth and start hating my body again. It's miserable. I'm back where I wanted to be, why am I not happy? 

I [am not] fat. I [feel] fat. And there's a painful difference in those two. 

I could lose 5 more kilos and still be just as unhappy as I am now. 

I need to fix that something in my head. I need to learn to love myself. Love my body. 

But how to do it? How? H o w ?

[141103]

trigger warning; abusive themes.

_______________________________________

It was the same dream again. He hated it. He wanted to wake up from it. But he couldn't. It was like the dream was dragging him down. It pinned him there and wrapped itself around him so tightly he couldn't breathe. It was the same nightmare again and again and again. And it never eased. It only got worse.

The courtroom was large. It reminded something European from a century or two ago. The large windows were covered with heavy, draped curtains that left the room dim. The light scattered around the room came from the flickering lights of candle flames. The light was alive. It was pure and natural and nevertheless it left the room cold. He shivered slightly, wanting to wrap his arms around himself to keep warm. The coldness chilled down to your very bones. And the coldness stayed. It stayed and inhabitet itself into his body, made his chest freeze to the point it hurt. His arms helplessly tied to the thick wooden armrests, the metal chains weighting against his skin cold and heavy. He sat there, unable to escape, unable to move, facing the sea of the faceless people in the jury. Why were they all smiling?

Guilty, guilty, guilty. 

He could hear the whispers in the crowd. 

Guilty. Definitely guilty. Look at his clothes. 

He glanced down. The pale blue shirt he was wearing was stained in splatters of dark red. His eyes widened. He wanted to explain. This wasn't him. It wasn't him. 

A boy of that age. He must be insane. 

No. The chains rattled as he tried to struggle in them. They were wrong. They had the wrong idea. It wasn't like that. 

Poor mother... such a monster for a child! 

His shouts were muffled against the gag in his mouth. There were hollow laughters filling the room.

Guilty, definitely guilty. 

And they all looked at him and laughed. These faceless monsters with their hollow voices. He was cold and alone and no one would help him. 

Guilty. Monster. Poor mother.. He deserves it all.

He could see his mother. Comforted by the sea of te faceless creatures. And she cried and looked so miserable, oh so miserable. But when she had the chance and their eyes met, there was that devilish smile on her lips. And he wanted them to notice it. He wanted them to understand. But they wouldn't. He would be the guilty as charged. That's how it went.

The boy woke up in cold sweat, breathing stuck in his throat. The red numbers of the alarm clock ticked at 2:58. He curled up on his mattress, trying to calm down his breathing again. Brushing off the hair from his face his fingers touched the bruise colouring his cheekbone and a quiet whimper filled the silence of the night. He hugged the blanket tighter against his chest, trying to keep the tears from flowing down onto his cheeks. He deserved it all. He was a monster after all.