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.

[141028]

Before I used to love how quiet it was at night. You had time just for yourself. There was no one else awake and you could feel like you were the king of the world. You were on top of everything and nothing could possibly beat you. The night gave you wings.

I still love the night, don't get me wrong.
However nowadays I hate it too.

I hate the silence of everyone else sleeping because it reminds me that I should be sleeping too. That I should be able to sleep too. And here I am tossing and turning in bed. All because I wanted to be foolishly brave and not take the medication tonight. I wanted to prove myself that I can still sleep.
Unfortunately I can't. And that's sad.
I fall for my own lie time after time.

141014

I’m afraid it’s getting worse again. I’m not sure if it’s about the autumn that has finally come. I wonder at what point did the leaves turn yellow and fall onto the ground? The ground’s not black, the streets are not black. They are yellow, orange, red.. they’re like on fire. But the nights are not. The red sunsets have turned into gray and blue and the darkness comes earlier than before. The autumn is dark and cold. I’m afraid it’s creeping inside me as well.

I feel tired again. I sleep 8-9 hours a night and nevertheless when the morning comes I hardly get my eyes open. And let’s not even talk about lectures. Once I finally get back home I’m so tired I could go back to sleep again. This starts reminding me of last autumn. I could sleep 13-16 hours a day. I don’t know what to do anymore, really.. I don’t sleep and I feel tired. I do sleep and I feel tired nevertheless.

As if this wasn’t already exhausting enough, there’s the happy little sound nagging in the back of my head. Most of all I feel incompetent and stupid. Ugly and fat come right after the first two. I know it’s just my head messing around but nevertheless it gets tiring. Why can’t I ever be good enough? Why can’t I be smart and pretty? Or at least smart? Or pretty? I feel like I’m failing as a human for being neither. This all dwells inside of me to the point where I hardly enjoy things that I am supposed to enjoy. That’s tiring as well.

All I want to do is sleep.

I wish I didn’t have to wake up for lecture tomorrow but instead I could just sleep through the whole day. That would be perfect. Unfortunately it’s also impossible.

I don’t know what to do. I am so lost right now.