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Broken Mirror

I feel dizzy and my eyes sting, I’m close to falling asleep. I don’t know what time it is, I’ve lost track of time and created a bubble outside of it. The light seeping through the blinds dims after a while and then lights up again slowly. I barely notice it. I’m looking at life through broken glass and I need to know how to fix it. Or at least I don’t want to make it any worse. I need to be alone because every fake smile breaks my heart a little more.

I have my ups and downs, right now I’m more down, almost more than I’ve ever been but I’m still somewhat calm. It’s a fragile calm. A weak, brittle calm that can shatter at the slightest breeze. But for the moment I’m keeping it together. My double bed has become my safe place and my room is a mess and I’m just sitting watching films or series or videos, anything to distract me while I’m awake.

Every time I stay awake a little longer, and every time I wait until the last moment before crashing into sleep. It’s not the sleep I’m afraid of, it’s the moments in between, those moments when it’s only you and the darkness, there’s no music to drown out the unwanted voices, no video to concentrate on, only you. That’s when they whisper…

You’re all aloneNobody caresAs if anyone would notice if you just diedThey don’t want to knowThey’re better off without youYou’re so indiscreteYou can’t keep a secretCan’t be relied onYou’re a terrible friendWhat did you ever do to deserve someoneYou’d be better off dead…

Ringing forever in my head. The voice of self-loathing and all that goes with it. I contradict it at every turn but it gets harder and harder and it finds proof of my uselessness and everything I do wrong crashes down on me and I feel a thousand eyes crushing me with judgement. I never asked for this.

So I look up films to watch and I nibble on my tomatoes and crisps and chocolate and whatever else is lying around. And I stay awake until I’m too tired to think. And I crash into sleep in the daylight.

I know I can’t keep this up. I’m riding this moment out but there’s always this little voice saying what if it doesn’t stop?

My heart and mind are in pieces. I can’t think straight and I’m too tired to care. My eyes sting too much.

I’m going to clear my bed and sleep now.

Goodnight.

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Posted by on 7 June 2017 in lost things

 

Waiting Days

Some days are better days, some days are worse days. This has been going on for about a month now, it’s never been this long or this bad. But there are different days and not every day is necessarily bad; there can be better days, or good moments even during the bad days. I’ve cried but I’ve smiled and laughed too and that’s part of what makes this bearable. Some days are roller-coasters where I can be happy in one instant and devastated in the next. One thing people might not know though is that some days are just waiting days.

Some days you wake up and you know you’re not going to do anything, sometimes out of a lack of will or motivation, but also sometimes out of choice. Sometimes you just don’t know what to do so you just focus on staying quiet and calm even if that means lying in bed all day. Or you could want to give people a rest, you could be feeling like you’re bothering the world with this and you don’t want to bother… so you waste a day, because you feel like the world is better off without you. It could also be that you don’t or no longer know who to turn to, so instead of burdening or frightening someone you’d rather contain it so at least you’re the only person it hurts. Or at least you hope so, because you can never know how other people are feeling. For me I guess the reason is a bit of everything. So I just move around, usually with music or watching a series to distract me from the deeper thoughts because I’d rather not hear them right now.

It’s sad, I think, how feelings other than “like” or “don’t like” quickly become taboo. How people are afraid of love or depression. Those are things rarely talked about in real life, things kept hushed because strong feelings scare people away. We’ve come to a point where emotion is weakness. When my friends see me mentally unwell most of them just ignore me, are they embarrassed? Are they afraid I’ll drag them down where I am? Or are they just afraid I might break if they touched me? They must know that isolation is a bad thing for me if I’m depressed but they isolate me anyway. No-one prepares you for this: they don’t prepare you for depression and they don’t prepare you for handling people or friends who could be depressed. Maybe something could be done, at school maybe, to talk about feelings instead of making children suppress them. I don’t know.

I’ve thought about dying. And yeah I know that’s not something you’re supposed to say but it’s true. I’ve never completely wanted to die, because I know to some extent what that could do to certain people. So I’ll stay alive to protect them. And I keep telling myself that it’ll get better, it has to, I can’t live like this forever and besides it always gets better. I try to hold on to that hope as much as I can. And I’m trying to be less harsh on myself, the depression is doing more than enough about that. I haven’t tried dying, and I’m hesitant to add “yet” at the end of that phrase, I can’t know what will happen, I can only hope I’ll stay strong enough for it to never happen. I don’t want to die. But sometimes it can be hard to want to live too. It tears me apart, mainly at night, it reminds me of all the times I’ve been rejected, all the bad things said about me, how people must feel about me, all the mistakes I’ve made and I feel like the world would be better off without me and it hurts. It hurts so much. I try to fight it, find counter-examples, but mostly I just try to make it stop because at the time I know that I can’t find enough examples to win. And then I think of what would happen if I died, and I see it happening to the people I love, the tearing apart, and I think “I can endure this for them”, because I don’t want them to feel this pain, ever.

People can be quick to tell you what’s wrong, to tell you off for some mistake you made or yell at you because they misunderstood your actions, people are better at accusing and blaming and insulting than telling others they love them. So it can be hard, when no-one tells you they love you and you have all these voices in your head, and outside of it, telling you what’s wrong with you. People take love for granted, but sometimes we need to hear that we are loved. If someone told me that, I might feel a little better, it could help fight all the bad things. But no-one tells me, because those who love me just take it for granted, they figure I don’t need reminding, but I can feel myself slipping and I’m desperately trying to hold on to anything, and everyone seems to be pulling away. If I just let go now, who would catch me in my fall?

 
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Posted by on 17 February 2017 in Banzaï

 

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Moving Still

You can’t understand how hard it is
To move
Without trembling…

You can’t hear me
Screaming inside
As I say
“I’m fine…”
“Just tired.”

You can’t see exactly how much
It tears me apart
When I smile for you.

You can’t feel what I feel,
How much it hurts
Just to breathe…
And to contain
All the thoughts,
Fear,
Anger,
Self-loathing,
Loneliness,
Self-loathing,
Self-loathing…
Spinning out of control
Self-loathing,
Self-loathing…

I know it’s my fault,
I won’t hold anything against you,
But my heart’s in pieces,
And I just want to stop.
I want it all to stop.
I keep screwing things up,
For me and everyone else.
It’d be better if I just
Let
Go.

I don’t deserve to live,
No matter how much good I may have done
The bad always seems to overshadow it.
I don’t deserve to die,
I would just be causing people pain.
I’d rather keep that pain to myself.
I’ll only,
Very slowly,
Disappear…

And maybe it’ll be enough…
To stop hurting people…
And maybe one day it’ll stop hurting me

 
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Posted by on 13 January 2017 in lost things

 

Angels & Demons

My angel and my demon
Live side by side,
It’s not very stable,
But it’ll suffice.

My angel and demon
Aren’t balanced or fixed,
They waver and wander,
And move quite a bit.

My angel and demon
Are quite close when you think
One and the other
Are white silk and black ink.

My angel and demon
When one wanders too far
No, I don’t like that
I won’t think about it
Come back
Wait
No

Don’t

 
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Me

 
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Posted by on 11 December 2016 in lost things

 

Dancing With The Devil

I felt funny. I guess I was just the right amount of drunk to be able to dance without overthinking my movements. I looked around the place where we were dancing; it wasn’t a castle nor a cave but a comfortable thing in between the two. My eyes darted around. Dancing this close with someone wasn’t something I’d done often before and I wasn’t very comfortable with it, so I distracted myself by looking around.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

He sounded a little hurt. It wasn’t particularly against him, I avoid eye contact with just about everyone I can avoid it with. I know it makes people uneasy, I’ve often been told to stop staring. My eyes are awake and always staring without any kind of veil in front of them, they don’t hide anything and they seldom miss a thing.

I shrugged the dreaded question away and made a very conscious effort to look him in the eyes. I made a point to stop looking towards the person I’d rather be with, I supposed this guy wasn’t too bad. I tried to shake the uneasy feeling I had about him, I was probably just overreacting, he was my friend right?

He held my stare while we danced and I realised he had a similar look. The song lasted a too long forever, but at least I was comfortably staring the devil in the eye. Unknowingly.

I don’t regret dancing with him. I regret some of the other things.

 
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Posted by on 17 November 2016 in Banzaï

 

Boygirl

“Does she even know how to be a girl?” A female voice despaired.

“I don’t know… How did you do it?” Replied the man.

“Well I did it to impress boys because I knew that I’d never get married if I didn’t set a good impression… do you think she understands that?” Asked my mother.

To which my father replied, “I don’t know… I think she might, I mean it’s hard not to… I’m afraid she might just not care.”

“But how on earth does she think she’ll find a good husband like that?!”…

I stopped listening to my parents. My dad was right, I didn’t care. I looked at myself, my jeans had once been too long and were now scuffed and torn around my ankles, it had taken a while and I could finally walk around without stepping on them. I was wearing a red loose-fitting unisex T-shirt with a dragon on it, because who doesn’t like dragons? On my feet were my converses, I always had converses and these ones were a nice sea-turquoise, I’d had many colours: purple, green-turquoise, yellow and black leather ones (for when it rained). Converses were known for their bright colours so getting bland ones defeated the point.

I wasn’t about to start dressing all nice and girly waiting for a prince to sweep me off my feet. I wasn’t sure I even wanted a guy. I figured one day I’d meet someone and I might fall in love and they’d like me for who I was, regardless of how boyish my clothes were, or how messy my hair was. Anyone else wouldn’t be worth my time. I figured ” how to be a girl” wasn’t universal, I knew what my mother meant by it and wholeheartedly rejected it. I wasn’t in any kind of hurry to spend the rest of my life with one person. I wanted to explore a little before I decided to settle with someone… if I ever decided to settle with anyone…

Maybe I’ll get married to a girl? I suppose time will tell.

 
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Posted by on 29 October 2016 in lost things

 

Dear Diary

I wish I could always be 18. That was the best year. It was the year of beginnings. It was the first year of studying something I’d chosen, the year I first drank beer and vodka, the year I met my best friend who I love with all my heart. The first year I skipped class, the first time I lived away from my parents and not on holiday, the first time I felt like I belonged in a place, the first time I got tipsy. First time having money, first time being broke. And I was just starting to find out slowly who I really was. When I realised that I’d never be this young and I did crazy things like cycle halfway through Paris with friends ending up watching the sunrise in front of the Eiffel Tower with no idea of how to get home, not feeling the cold. I wish I could spend my life being 18.

When I was 19 I finally understood that I had friends who I loved but, more importantly, that they loved me back. I had my highest moments surrounded by friends feeling safe and invincible. But I also had my lowest moments, because once you acknowledge that someone can love you, you can suddenly be afraid that they won’t. There was a little voice in my head that would surface telling me that I was bothering people, that they might be better off without me. As long as I had reason to believe otherwise I could ignore it however if I annoyed someone and they stormed off or if I was ignored for too long it got harder to fight that voice. It could bring me down as fast as in an afternoon. I’ve had times when I couldn’t get out of bed, barely keeping the depression at bay. I’ve spent nights crying. It’s driven me crazy some days. 19 was the year everything got a little more complicated. There was that. And there was the separation with my some of my best friends as they left for more or less time. One of them I’ve know longer, he was there when I had no-one else. We weren’t the best of friends, we were both awkward then, I think we still are in some ways, but we were friends. We’d both wanted to escape, he drew futuristic cities and I wrote stories about dragons. We both read and I liked to just sit next to him and read. But now we’re so far from each other, I don’t know how to reach him. He was my best friend once, and he’s still dear to me but I’m afraid that soon the thin string linking us together might break and I’ll lose him.

Then there was the other thing. I’ve thought a lot about the other thing and it still isn’t clear in my head. I can’t be sure of how I feel but I can take a pretty good guess. It makes everything so much more complicated. I can’t tell you about the other thing yet, because I still don’t know, I’m still confused. It’s one more thing to figure out and it’s been turning around in my head like a goldfish. It’s slowly taking shape but it can also move backwards. I have so many questions for myself. There are so many things I’ve yet to learn about myself. I’m not ready for 20 just yet. I have to figure that thing out before. At least.

 
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Posted by on 20 September 2016 in lost things