Dear you,
Last night I had a very difficult realization. I was talking to the man I am with about how tired I am, how stressful everything is, about how I have to switch into "survival mode" frequently to just get through the day. And do you know what he said?
"You make it sound like it's a fucking chore to be alive."
Everything suddenly crashed in around me, and my subconscious whispered something to me conscious mind. He was right. For the last few years, even when I thought I was in a position I could be happy with, I struggled through that daily chore. I didn't want to make it stop, I wasn't looking for a way out. But I wasn't happy to be going through it either.
I never thought that having suicidal tendencies would feel like that. I always assumed that if I got to that point, I wouldn't be able to get out of bed. I wouldn't be able to function, that I would cry all the time. I didn't realize that it would be hidden in the dread of waking up to my alarm every day to go to work. I didn't know it would be wrapped up in the blanket of failing out of school, or tucked inside an aching body that never wanted to stay standing and I hating looking at in the mirror.
Thankfully, I am getting my ESA soon. She is going to help tremendously. My hours at work are going to go down, which will hopefully help. At least, for the time being, things are going to become more bearable. I honestly can't say if I will ever look at being alive as not being a chore unfortunately, but I have people who want to help. As long as they don't drop everything and leave like you did, I think I can actually start to recover again.
Sincerely,
The Girl
Friday, October 14, 2016
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
The One About The Titanic
Dear you,
It seems as though a switch has flipped inside me, and my insomnia is back. I was doing so good for quite a few months. And something changed overnight in me I guess. It was quite odd honestly. It usually gets gradually worse and worse, until I can't sleep at night at all. But this time? This time is different. About a week ago I was sleepy by 2200, but last night I didn't finally collapse in bed until 0300.
On the upside, I have plenty of time to watch sad movies on Netflix. At least, I consider it an upside. Earlier, I finished was Titanic. It's odd, that a girl like me would watch that show by choice. I think I find some solace in having an excuse to feel emotion, and to cry. My walls are higher than ever now and it's incredibly difficult to find any other reason to show the broken parts of me that I hide.
Once the tears well up behind my lashes though, it's the end of my fight. I cried through the last half hour of the movie, and then for an hour after on the floor of the bathroom. I am the only one awake in my apartment (not hard when there are only two of us), so as per usual I have to comfort myself. This is nothing new though, and after all my mascara has run and half the roll of toilet paper is blown through, I am able to pick myself back up and lie on my half of the bed.
My mind runs rampant at night, and the uncontrolled thoughts surround my memory of you. I can't drown them out myself, I can't sink my memories of you, of us, of all those years. I have to find outside forces to deliver me to a dreamless sleep. But tonight, as I'm drifting into the cold waters of despair, I have nothing to find peace in other than this letter. I know it's hopeless to think that you will ever read these, or that you even still care. And yet there will always be the small nag in the back of my mind... what if, what if, what if.
I think that's why I still cry so hard, because you will never actually be gone from my life, no matter who comes along, or how old I get. But for now, people will only ever know those tears shed for you as silly nonsense over a movie.
Sincerly,
The Girl
It seems as though a switch has flipped inside me, and my insomnia is back. I was doing so good for quite a few months. And something changed overnight in me I guess. It was quite odd honestly. It usually gets gradually worse and worse, until I can't sleep at night at all. But this time? This time is different. About a week ago I was sleepy by 2200, but last night I didn't finally collapse in bed until 0300.
On the upside, I have plenty of time to watch sad movies on Netflix. At least, I consider it an upside. Earlier, I finished was Titanic. It's odd, that a girl like me would watch that show by choice. I think I find some solace in having an excuse to feel emotion, and to cry. My walls are higher than ever now and it's incredibly difficult to find any other reason to show the broken parts of me that I hide.
Once the tears well up behind my lashes though, it's the end of my fight. I cried through the last half hour of the movie, and then for an hour after on the floor of the bathroom. I am the only one awake in my apartment (not hard when there are only two of us), so as per usual I have to comfort myself. This is nothing new though, and after all my mascara has run and half the roll of toilet paper is blown through, I am able to pick myself back up and lie on my half of the bed.
My mind runs rampant at night, and the uncontrolled thoughts surround my memory of you. I can't drown them out myself, I can't sink my memories of you, of us, of all those years. I have to find outside forces to deliver me to a dreamless sleep. But tonight, as I'm drifting into the cold waters of despair, I have nothing to find peace in other than this letter. I know it's hopeless to think that you will ever read these, or that you even still care. And yet there will always be the small nag in the back of my mind... what if, what if, what if.
I think that's why I still cry so hard, because you will never actually be gone from my life, no matter who comes along, or how old I get. But for now, people will only ever know those tears shed for you as silly nonsense over a movie.
Sincerly,
The Girl
Tuesday, October 11, 2016
The First One
Dear... well... you,
It's been eight months (give or take a few days) since you withdrew yourself so violently from my life. My life now, while enjoyable, is nothing like it was three-quarters of a year ago. No, that's a lie. My mental state, my insecurities, and my shattered heart are still just the same as they were when you threw me out into the street all those months ago.
The differences though, you ask? Oh where do I begin... I am in a different apartment, in a different part of town. I work at a new place, a place that has done me much good. I am in the process of receiving an emotional service dog, and I have a long over due, week long vacation fast approaching.
But I think the biggest thing that has changed, and something that makes this all so hard, is that I have found a man who is trying to piece my heart back together. So valiantly and steadfast, each day he scoops up shards and carefully places them back where they belong. If only at night they didn't crumble again when I am left alone to my own thoughts.
Do you think it's possible to be in love with two people at once? I know it's possible, but most I've dared tell disagree. They say I am a terrible person, for never getting over you, for putting the man who wants to help me through this.
Maybe I am simply in love with the idea of you. I know that you are never coming back for me, that all the dreams I had are blown away by a wind that will never bring them back. Which is why I want a future with this man I have told you about. He lives with me, you know. We have made plans, started a life. But there is always going to be a nagging little thought in the back of my head, wishing you would come around. I hate it, but it's true. It's what makes all of this so hard.
It seems that I have gotten caught up rambling again. I'm sure it will happen plenty but for now I will bid you farewell without more distracted words about my crisscrossed mental state.
Sincerely,
The Girl
It's been eight months (give or take a few days) since you withdrew yourself so violently from my life. My life now, while enjoyable, is nothing like it was three-quarters of a year ago. No, that's a lie. My mental state, my insecurities, and my shattered heart are still just the same as they were when you threw me out into the street all those months ago.
The differences though, you ask? Oh where do I begin... I am in a different apartment, in a different part of town. I work at a new place, a place that has done me much good. I am in the process of receiving an emotional service dog, and I have a long over due, week long vacation fast approaching.
But I think the biggest thing that has changed, and something that makes this all so hard, is that I have found a man who is trying to piece my heart back together. So valiantly and steadfast, each day he scoops up shards and carefully places them back where they belong. If only at night they didn't crumble again when I am left alone to my own thoughts.
Do you think it's possible to be in love with two people at once? I know it's possible, but most I've dared tell disagree. They say I am a terrible person, for never getting over you, for putting the man who wants to help me through this.
Maybe I am simply in love with the idea of you. I know that you are never coming back for me, that all the dreams I had are blown away by a wind that will never bring them back. Which is why I want a future with this man I have told you about. He lives with me, you know. We have made plans, started a life. But there is always going to be a nagging little thought in the back of my head, wishing you would come around. I hate it, but it's true. It's what makes all of this so hard.
It seems that I have gotten caught up rambling again. I'm sure it will happen plenty but for now I will bid you farewell without more distracted words about my crisscrossed mental state.
Sincerely,
The Girl
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