Back to English because it hurts too much to think in French. I have no idea why but I guess I can collect my thoughts better in English and feel less dumb for having all these dark thoughts. I don’t know.
I feel more and more lonely, as if I was cruising around my life without participating in it. I feel the downward spiral starting again. I thought I was done with it, maybe not for good, but for some time at least.
I had a slither of hope these past couple of months, as if I was finally heading the right way but I got hit by a truck. A truck that made me stare in the deepest floors of my brain and my heart. I thought I’ve made a new connection, but I can feel it fading away and it hurts. It hurts because I’m greedy as fuck, because I’m too eager, because I’m not used to it so I want it all and I want it now. I knew it would end up like this, it always does. I’m a fucking people repellent, so much that I’ve repelled myself. I’ve tried reconnecting as well and it felt awkward, and forced. Another kick in the shins.
I’m thinking of everything I’ve done wrong since forever, punching myself in the guts, crying over dry ink. I’m fucking stupid and I can’t help myself.
What if I had never been abused? What if I had never gotten that fat because of it? What if I had never been haunted by this? What if I had remembered earlier? What if I had told my parents? What if I had been stronger?
Would have I had a “normal” life? Would have I been confident? Would have I succeeded in college? Would have I found my calling? Would have I been free of any anxiety? Would have I been loved? Would have I loved myself? Would have I thought the glass half full?
Because at the end of the day I’m that 33 years old who hasn’t finished college. Who has no real home. Who has a shit job and no career in sight. Whose sole existence is hated by most. Whose mind isn’t fucking capable of working correctly. Who’s muffling her sobs in the middle of the night so she doesn’t wake up the household. Who can’t stop wallowing in her own fucking misery. Who’s alone. Who’s lonely.
Tomorrow I’ll be doing the usual. Wearing my “happy” façade as if everything was alright, like I do every day of my life.
Well, at least you’re not dying in a fucking ditch you fucking moron.
