I'm not really sure where to start.
I guess I'm not sure who to turn to, I'm not sure where to turn to so my best bet is to write it out. Write what I'm feeling, write my thoughts. I don't really care if anyone reads it, if anyone cares but the thoughts are better written out then kept in. I haven't really been feeling well, to say the least. I've been feeling more aggressive and angry at everything. I get random moments where I want to throw everything, where I want to hurt myself and others. I know this is not okay, but it's what I feel nevertheless. I feel angry at the littlest things. Things that shouldn't even matter. Things that usually should pass by without me noticing. I feel angry at people. I get annoyed at them for nothing. People I very much care about. Some of which I understand why I would feel angry at, but others I don't. Like my boyfriend. I feel angry at him for no reason. I love him whole heartedly, but I often feel annoyed and aggressive around him. Maybe it's because he's the only one around who I can let myself be the ''real'' me? I honestly have no idea. I don't want to lose him but I constantly think that he should leave me. He doesn't deserve to be around someone like me. No one does. Even the best of people. I deserve to be alone. Live out my days on my own. Not to be taken care of by someone. He deserves so much better. To be with someone who'll make him happy, that'll enjoy living and that is normal. I am NOT that someone. I make him miserable with all my neediness. I'm weak, I'm fragile and very much needy.
I'm damaged. I can not heal from this. There is almost not a day that goes by where I don't think that it should be my final day. That everything should end right then and there. The world wouldn't stop because I wouldn't be living in it any more. It would not stop going round and round. The people would keep on living. They would keep on moving. Sure, maybe they would cry a few tears for a day. But then, everything would go back to the way it used to be. I wouldn't want people to go out of their way to put me to rest. I'd just want to go and be done with it. Peacefully? I would hope so, but that's not the way I imagine my death. Every imagine I have of me passing on is gruesome and tends to be self induced. Bleeding out, being hanged, getting hit by a moving vehicle, having an overdose and so many more. I don't do it but it doesn't mean I don't think about it.
There are so many things I think about. Not just death, but so many things. Things that fascinate me, things that anger me, things that make me smile. I am just so complicated. I don't understand my thoughts. I don't understand myself. If I don't, how am I supposed to share with the one I love? He tries. I know he does. He tries his best but he really doesn't understand. I just try to push him away but he sticks around even though I have no idea why. The concept of someone purposely wanting to love me and care for me is one I can not grasp. Who would love a sick person? I am not well. I am ill. I need help but I am afraid. I am afraid to tell someone everything that goes through my mind. If I tell a doctor or any specialist about everything, I'm afraid they will judge me. And after that, if they tell me that there's nothing technically wrong, that they can't do anything about it, I'm done. That's it. I will be stuck this way for the rest of my life. But, if there IS something wrong with me, like a disorder of some kind, then they could help me. They could try fixing me, slowly. There's hope, to a certain extent but that hope isn't motivating me at all. It doesn't make sense, does it? Of course not. I should hold on to that tiny strand of hope that I could get better. I could actually get better.
But the question is, can I ever get better? or am I really damaged for good, no matter what I do?
Even with therapy, medication and all that? I don't know. I honestly don't know. I should consult, I know that.
Where should I go from here? Every day is just a struggle. I'm not winning at life. I'm not winning at anything. I'm not even living. I'm surviving. I keep going only to try to make my boyfriend happy. It doesn't matter for any one else. Honestly, I wish I would've kept the foetus that was in me and let it grow. Had I not terminated the pregnancy, I already would've given birth and I would've at least left a mark in this world. I would've left a part of me for those who care enough to notice that I would've been gone. I could of left for good now. I can't. I don't even know if I will get the chance to leave a child behind any more. I don't know. Although pregnancy will mean that I will have to survive another nine months, minimum. We will have to see.
I just want to get better. If that doesn't work, then I'm better off passing on..
