You know, it’s funny. Everyone always says no matter what you can call on them. It’s one of human beings favourite things to say. Sounds so humane, so caring, kudos points. Well apart from Sam. Sam told me outright what the truth is about everyone else that when it got to that no matter what moment I couldn’t call him. When I scroll through the contacts on my phone I just can’t think of who’s number to click on every single person I can think of a reason not to and so I don’t and I live with over 400 other people but I can’t think of a good enough reason to knock on their door so I just end up sitting here alone when I am sad. Because the whole world is only company when I am happy. When everything is good. When everything is fine. No stress, no pressure, no effort. No commitment.
I have a boyfriend of two years and the most real life live close acquaintances I’ve had probably ever in my life but I am so painfully excruciatingly lonely. I think I have probably never felt so truly alone. Or really ever had the dawning realisation before that you really are truly alone. Which kind of makes me pathetic.
So hi, hullo. This is my confession. Sometimes I want to be alone. Totally alone. Not in a romantic oh I want to go on a long road trip alone. Some nights like tonight I want to stop trying to force connections because it might be less painful if I stopped trying. If I hadn’t tried I wouldn’t have disappointment and hurt. I want to just absorb myself in my every day routine without human contact. Without relationships. I want out of every single person I’ve ever met. Humans disgust me more than they ever have before in my lifetime. They literally make my stomach turn some days. Now that I can see through people’s true intentions and their true meanings behind their actions it just makes me feel sick. The world is sick. I don’t see any beauty in it anymore. People don’t make me happy because I just wonder what their motivation is, what the disgusting secret it is that I have yet to find out about them. The way that people have treated me and others around them makes me deeply sad. It makes me blue.
Sometimes, like tonight, I want to harm myself even though I still have quite deep scars that I wear on my hips that I worry will stop me from passing medicals for my dreams one day. That is the only thing that stops me. I dream of it, I lust over it. I disgust myself. Some nights, or at some insignificant moment of a day, I replay the things that people have done to hurt me in my head with heart shredding imaginative accuracy. I think about my cat that drowned 7 years ago a lot, and if I could have saved her. I torture myself with the guilt. I torture myself with the guilt of my rabbit who was taken by a fox when he was in his cage because I was 12 and lazy, and my mother was also lazy, and I wonder if I had been less lazy I could have saved him. I wonder if he was cold when he was by the riverbank and if nobody bothered to look for him there. I would have looked for him there. I replay him cheating on me over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over again in graphic detail. I wonder what his thoughts where. What it felt like. If he ever felt guilty. If it felt good. I look up the girls he cheated on me with. I want to be their friends. I let myself be repulsed. I think that sex is disgusting. I feel disgusted when I want sex, when I masturbate, when I’m horny. I feel like I’m no better than an animal. I don’t want to have those feelings anymore.
I miss certain ex’s and wonder if they think of me I’m nostalgic to the point of being wasteful with my time. I wonder what went through their heads after they left me. If they missed me. If they were relieved. I wonder how they are I wonder what their live is like now. I wonder if I was more than a pencil mark in theirs. I feel weak when I miss them. It makes me feel desperate. It makes me hate myself. I wonder sometimes if I will cross paths with people from my past again and if that would make me happy and what we would say. This helps me sleep at night. I like to dream of it.
And sometimes, when I am weakest of all, I just want to kill myself. Which I know is selfish, and makes me hate myself more deeply. My father is dying of cancer, my grandpa just died of cancer, both of them would have wanted more time, and yet, I want to eradicate mine just so I can’t feel everyday pain that everyone else copes with just fine. I am just a self absorbed selfish little girl.
It kills me that I cannot forge connections like I used to. I cannot see the beauty and the art in anything anymore. Even the sadness. I can’t see the love. I feel like I’m in a fish bowl, constantly, with really thin glass and I just can never quite touch it. I just can’t quite force myself to care when I know that eventually they will hurt me, disgust me, let me down, make me hate one more part of myself. I miss company. I miss feeling love. I miss things having weight, and significance. I don’t know if I still believe in love. I most certainly don’t believe that anybody will ever love me.
Everytime I feel trapped inside my own mind again I just feel like this is going to be the routine over and over for the rest of my life. When I feel like I’m losing the grip again. When I feel like the cycle is starting over. I am tired. I am tired, I am tired, I am tired. I am useless. I have no purpose. I have no place.
Sometimes I go days avoiding mirrors. If I don’t look at my face I might not register the humanity of it all. That I am alive.
But tonight. Tonight I feel lonely. Tonight I want to kill myself. Tonight I want to run away. Tonight I want to disappear and have nobody notice I am gone. Tonight I want someone to care if I’m gone, I want to feel noticed, I want to feel missed, I want to feel loved, I want to feel important. I am listening to old songs. I am crying. Tonight I want to feel like I can touch something.
And I have nobody to tell. And that is completely and utterly my own fault.