I just feel...so sad. But I don't have the strength to write. Been working so hard. On the job searching, making sure it's all accurate on the form for UC. I need more time. I write articles every week. Started as 3 a week...then 2. Now just on Fridays. Saturday this week. So tired. Updating my Blue group page on FB, trying to keep up with all the news, all the action on Twitter, on 101X. I pushed myself too hard, sacrificed my health. And I paid. People probably think I'm so stupid for not eating, for complaining about being underweight. It's an "abnormal" thing, like being quiet. "Just talk"...now "Just eat". As if food is the problem, as if my voice was the problem. It's about confidence...and now control. Not an eating disorder -- I don't fit that profile because it's not a body image issue. I don't want to be skinny, never did. But always was. It's genetics. And when I lose my appetite...due to meds or stress or not taking breaks, it's my way to self-harm. My punishment, stress eating me alive -- literally. Do you know what that feels like? Not just hunger. A deep pain, aches, shakes, my body suffers. I let it happen. Because...I need pain. I don't know how to be happy. It doesn't feel familiar and I can never stay there. I never stay up.
I keep reading about Bipolar and wondering if I'm slightly manic. I know the terms, the different types, but I'm too tired to focus that much. I'm not manic. I overwork, I push too hard -- myself and others. I just see so much ahead, so much that can be...and I have the drive to make it happen. I don't care about myself to stop achieving my goals. I need to have a purpose, I need to be productive. I never let sickness or depression or pain stop me before. And I passed out at work, I threw up in drawing class, I had breakdowns in meetings. I don't want to be like that anymore. Control. So much control. I need it. I need to be in control now. Let no one tell me how to be...or not be.
God, I'm just so frustrated. With myself, with the world, with life. I'm tired of words. I'm tired of people not following through on what they say. I'm alone. Is there anything more than what's going on now that proves that? They all want to meet me, hang out with me. But...not now? I'm giving freely...take it. I'm asking for too much. I want the kind of friend that I am. Always there, no matter what. Being there even if I don't want to, if I have my own problems. Because they need me...just to be there. I'm sick of being that friend. Because I'm not allowed to expect it from anyone else. It's so wonderful that I'm the way I am, right? They all say. But why do they deserve to be treated like that...why do they deserve my loyalty and time and kindness. Who really deserves my love? I give my all. The whole thing. But all I get back are pieces. There are conditions, limits. Priorities...and I'm just not. I know. I know this. It's always been like this, since I was a kid. I know that "that" isn't my life, I'm not "that" girl. I'm just not. And all the nice words don't prove that I matter enough. That I'm special enough. That I'm worth the time, the sacrifice. That I might need to come first.
I have to let go of this. This idea that I can be like them, that I can have what other people have -- the simple things. I don't need much...but what I need is too much. And I'm tired of the words. I'm tired of letting my guard down and believing, expecting. Hope. I can't give up hope, but I have to turn away. I have to accept my place. How I hate that phrase. But I do have a place...and I've been fighting it forever...wishing on stupid stars, praying. Prayers are ok. As long as I pray for others or pray for my own protection, safety. I have to do my duties. What I was created for. Because there's a reason. And I've always known it. And it's not what anyone on the outside wants for me. But it's all I can give. Give. Victory of the people. That's my purpose.
I love Blue. I love the people I've met. I'm grateful to have reconnected with old friends. I'm thankful for the memories. Even the friends lost...or changed. They were friends once, they did care. But, things change. And I hurt. But that's my life too. I feel too much. One day maybe I'll get that ulcer. Right now I just have anxiety.
I can do this on my own. Live. I just don't want to. Who really wants to be alone...not just by themselves, but alone? All the friends in the world, all the family support can't cure this. I'm different...and I'm lost. I keep going and going until there's not more road left. I have nothing more than that.
I'm down. I'm tired. I want to cry.
But I can do this. I'll do the things I want. I'm capable. Doesn't mean I should have to. But I do. They're all taken away from me...not because I don't deserve it, but because I'm not supposed to have it. I'm meant for something else. More? In a different way, maybe. But not the more I want. But we don't always get what we want.
I want to go see the Parlotones next Saturday. Thank you for letting me win the contest. Two free tickets (well, 2 places on the guest list). I really want to go. I found a solution to the driving problem...to make the trip shorter. But parking? I know what the street looks like (research, maps). I'll try to remain calm. If I go. Have to see how I feel, physically and emotionally. I know I'll feel guilt if I don't go. I was given a gift and didn't use it. But I'm not obligated...and I just have to do what I need to do. I just wish things were a little bit different. A companion was all I needed. But I'm alone.
I have to pull away. That's the hardest thing to do. But I have to go back to the fire, the me in the aftermath. I want to not care anymore. I want to be mean. I want to take and not give back. Not say thank you, not go out of my way to show someone I support them, that I remember what's special to them. People do that for me. I can't say there aren't great things, great people, great moments. But it's not enough. I always need more -- too much. Why doesn't it seem like too much for me?
"Just wake up in the morning. That's all you have to do, and I'll take it from there..." Can someone love me past MY pain? No more words. Give me proof.
I'll finish watching the movie...and try to wind down. My body wants to move but my mind is tired. My back hurts, my legs hurt. I do a lot. More than people see. I'm not lazy, I'm not weak. I'm just now where I want to be. Is this where I should be? I suppose. If you believe in that. I believe in a lot of things. Miracles, true love, angels, ghosts. But I also see the evil, the cruelness, the lies. And I hate living in a world like that. It's getting harder. Every day it gets harder...because time marches on. Who knew I'd ever get here? This old? But I did. I'm protected. I'm necessary...for purposes. I just have to live with that. Acceptance. As much as I hate it. And I'll keep going until I don't.
I'm tired. And I'll regret this. I want to cry every night because I open myself, give myself, the words come out of me. I have to replenish. Night's are so hard...
I'll go on.
*No edit*
No comments:
Post a Comment