anopenwound
I̸'̷m̵ ̸g̶o̷i̶n̵g̷ ̶h̵o̶m̶e̶.̵
- Jul 27, 2024
- 180
I'm yet again determined to end it all as I can't keep going like this anymore. As many times before, it doesn't even matter what happened. It's not as if what triggered this bears any meaning, is deserving of this level of pain or attention or anything. I'm on the outside of myself looking in and I see this deep dysfunction in my brain, shaking me to the core even though nothing that warrants this reaction is actually happening. I disagree with what's going on. I don't think my life is bad per se. But the pain is there. God, the pain is there all the time. It takes all my energy to drain it. It comes back. It always comes back and it always gets worse.
I talked to my friends through my last breakdown. I keep on asking myself why they're still here, why they're not annoyed by this, how come they haven't dropped me yet. They spent the night and morning helping me breathe. All because of something so pathetic.
At the end of the day they invited me over at theirs. I was shivering from the drop of temperature I experience every time panic hits. I kept on crying and I couldn't eat any of the food they gave me. I eventually laid down on the couch. Before I could get up to get a taxi home my friends tucked me in with a heavy duvet with some wool blankets, made me tea, gave me a kiss and wished me good night.
For some brief moments before I fell asleep the weight of the duvet took over me and I felt like I was actually home. Like I was gonna wake up the next morning and hear a light chatter in the kitchen. My parents making breakfast. Back then, when my dad wasn't a raging alcoholic and my mother didn't almost die, losing her mind forever. I held on to that feeling as long as I could. My muscles finally relaxed. The warmth of the wool blankets actually soaked into my bones. I slept.
...
I woke up in pain before I could understand what caused it. It takes no genius to understand my mind is making up motives to make me miserable. I don't need reality. I'm good at ruining my life on my own.
I keep on acting as if I'll do something about it cause I don't want my friends to suffer, but deep down I know I can't do this anymore. I'm looking at those websites again. I keep on thinking of all those people whose lives would be so easier if I just... if I just never got here in the first place. All the emergencies they could avoid when it comes to get me out of a downward spiral. All those worries could just disappear. All the conflict I bring, all the mind fuckery, everything.
I tried my best. I swear to god I did and I do all the time. I'll do it until the very end. I didn't mean to hurt anybody but I did anyway. I don't wanna keep on making my friends suffer.
I love them. I love them so much. I love those people more than anything in the world. I will remember this kindness until my last moment. When I lay down I'll pretend to be under that same duvet, in the lovely home my friends built for each other.
I love you both so much. E, O, you have no idea. I'm sorry I let you down.
I talked to my friends through my last breakdown. I keep on asking myself why they're still here, why they're not annoyed by this, how come they haven't dropped me yet. They spent the night and morning helping me breathe. All because of something so pathetic.
At the end of the day they invited me over at theirs. I was shivering from the drop of temperature I experience every time panic hits. I kept on crying and I couldn't eat any of the food they gave me. I eventually laid down on the couch. Before I could get up to get a taxi home my friends tucked me in with a heavy duvet with some wool blankets, made me tea, gave me a kiss and wished me good night.
For some brief moments before I fell asleep the weight of the duvet took over me and I felt like I was actually home. Like I was gonna wake up the next morning and hear a light chatter in the kitchen. My parents making breakfast. Back then, when my dad wasn't a raging alcoholic and my mother didn't almost die, losing her mind forever. I held on to that feeling as long as I could. My muscles finally relaxed. The warmth of the wool blankets actually soaked into my bones. I slept.
...
I woke up in pain before I could understand what caused it. It takes no genius to understand my mind is making up motives to make me miserable. I don't need reality. I'm good at ruining my life on my own.
I keep on acting as if I'll do something about it cause I don't want my friends to suffer, but deep down I know I can't do this anymore. I'm looking at those websites again. I keep on thinking of all those people whose lives would be so easier if I just... if I just never got here in the first place. All the emergencies they could avoid when it comes to get me out of a downward spiral. All those worries could just disappear. All the conflict I bring, all the mind fuckery, everything.
I tried my best. I swear to god I did and I do all the time. I'll do it until the very end. I didn't mean to hurt anybody but I did anyway. I don't wanna keep on making my friends suffer.
I love them. I love them so much. I love those people more than anything in the world. I will remember this kindness until my last moment. When I lay down I'll pretend to be under that same duvet, in the lovely home my friends built for each other.
I love you both so much. E, O, you have no idea. I'm sorry I let you down.
