Moving to a new place…..
I should be happy to leave here, but I’m not.
I should be excited about my own place, but I’m not
I should be proud of myself, but I’m not.
I’m way more depressed.
and I hate me all the more.
The birthday gal said it was the first birthday in decades that was celebrated for her. She hugged me and said thank you.
I wish I could feel what she meant. I hope she can feel that she is important.
Maybe one day I will feel that I am too.
This whole day has been nothing but positive and delightful on the outside.
but, inside – I am all the more, amply in fact, heartbroken.
Meeting people, celebrating with people, hoping to help others to feel loved and like they belong … these are good things, right? But good things like friendship, love, and family are facades … I am tired of living in the world of extremes …. I want some place in between.
How do I stop hating me?
I was trying to talk to a good friend about an incident that happened that I did not believe was related to anyone direct in my lineage. I could not even say the words. I could see it happening, but even now I can’t say it. The frozen response and the lack of words mixes inside me somehow. I find that I don’t even know how to say it. I can sign it. Maybe it is because it is too emotional? Perhaps my mind is not developed in that portion to be able to communicate the emotional and the physical and the pain??? I know that when it began I could not hear well at all. Having been born deaf, and having to deal with the hearing issues… maybe that is contributing??? I don’t fucking know!
I am not sure. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to say the words. But I could not because there were none. Sometimes I pride myself on being able to speak what I mean. The irony here is that Most people do not understand me and that means It is a me problem. I am functioning, but not living. I am here, but I feel that my taking up space is worthless.
I am worthless.
I can listen to others, as I have been taught. I can understand them and be compassionate.
I cannot listen to myself and I have zero compassion for me.
Does any of this matter?
Do I matter?
I feel as if my very best companions have died and I want to die too. I am so confused and I am in every way exhausted. My heart is heavy. My body is weak. My innards are achy. I am bleeding from what I have not discovered yet. I cannot even play the piano because I have to leave it behind as well.
This is another new beginning, a time to start again. Whether I want to or not it is happening. No matter what I want, everything still goes on. I am no longer a child but I still feel alien in this world. I have wanted to belong for so long and now, I just want to give up. I just want to give in.
Fine! I am the problem. Fine I will take the blame. Fine! Fine! Fucking ….(deep breath)…. fine.
God is there – yay. people love and care – yay. the world is how it should be I suppose.
Except for the fact that I am in it.
God, I hope I die in my sleep, because tomorrow night I will be alone. There will be no chance for witnesses. ….. and of all the suicidal thoughts that are written here – I am not afraid of what I will do. I am afraid that it will be as the last time I lived alone. More than every three days I was violated: in my apartment, in the parking lots, walking anywhere. I was free game then and I don’t know if anything has changed.