the worst feeling in the world is waking up alone, to a quiet house, going about your day trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy, when inside you are screaming—someone please, someone help me, please get me out of this fucked up, miserable hell hole that has become my life. when you’re with someone in a committed relationship for a very long time & then suddenly lose them, you have to learn how to become an entirely different person. because that person you were for the past 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 years… that person was a part of someone else. when you are in a long term relationship with someone, and you live with them, and you spend every day with them… it is really earth shattering when you suddenly are thrown out into the world alone, with no life support. no one there to help you. no one to tell you things will be okay. no one to look forward to at the end of a long day. no point in time or amount of waiting that will lead to a happy ending.
simple things like going to the store, seem almost unbearable to do alone. and i know everyone in this town will probably think i am crazy, wandering around the isles of a grocery store with tears in my eyes, wondering what i am even doing there as i have lost all desire and will to eat or sustain my life. it literally physically pains me just to breathe. every breath i take sends a sharp pain through my chest. everything reminds me of the life that once was, the life that could have been. everything reminds me of the fact that i am completely and utterly alone in this world. the fact that i could kill myself right this minute, and no one would know for days, weeks even. the fact that i could kill myself and no one would care with the exception of my mother and brother, who are 1400 miles away and living just fine without me there. i’m having such a hard time grasping the concept of life right now.
as early as i can remember, all i have felt inside is pain. all i have felt was alone, and like there is something missing in me that makes it impossible for me to connect with other people, impossible to appear normal so that people will want to be around me. i’m not normal, i am the farthest thing from it. but with him, i could pretend. we pretended to be this happy family for so long, even though we made each other miserable. somehow it was still okay, because he was my anchor. even though i literally hated him, despised all the things he did without taking a second to think how it would effect me, even still i loved him and he was my family, he was my everything, he was all i had. it scares me to death now to realize that i will never have that again. where am i going to find someone else who wants to be in a committed relationship with someone with as much depression and anxiety as me? i often meet people, and they always put on this front like it’s okay, and they understand, and they still want to be with me anyways… but ultimately i find that those people, most people, are fakes. no one ACTUALLY wants to be there for you when you feel like shit, no one ACTUALLY just wants to hold you and listen to you cry until it gets a little easier, no one ACTUALLY will deal with the fact that you worry about everything, constantly. because that is a burden to them, and they don’t HAVE to deal with it. it’s easier to walk away and say ‘fuck it, i don’t need this in my life.’
but do you know how badly i wish that i could just walk away? do you know that i would give anything to not feel this way anymore? i would give everything i own and be homeless the rest of my life, if it meant i could be happy. things don’t mean anything. having a job doesn’t mean anything. having a place to live doesn’t mean anything, when you don’t want to live.
but ultimately, it does not matter. it doesn’t matter to anyone, and no one will ever comprehend what it is like inside my head. and i really wouldn’t wish that on anybody.
it’s been such a hard season and the bridges we burned might be all we had to keep us from drowning. but at least we had this time; and i’d like to think we’re better off for it. i’ll remember this. sometimes broken things make the best building supplies. and we’ll keep on building. hearts aren’t made of glass, they’re made of muscle and blood and something else. and they don’t so much as break as bend and tear. we have what it takes to keep it together; and move on.
any relationship that matters - a friendship, a family, a romance, a band - anything - is a perilous and fragile thing because along with all the amazing experiences and creations that can come from something so intimate and exhausting comes the possibility for things to crumble and shatter or whither and die. when that happens, it’s easy to forget what was precious amidst all the disaster. we should always carry our history with us but never let it bury us.
i get to this point every single day, and usually it’s just moments after waking up, and i start to think “what am i even doing here? why do i even exist? how could there possibly be a point to all of this?” and i feel like the only reason i am still here is because i am living every day as a “maybe tomorrow will be better. maybe tomorrow i will get a job and my life will start to turn around. maybe tomorrow another door will open for me and i won’t have to feel this way anymore.”
and you see, the only problem with living your life one day at a time, living in a world of “maybe tomorrow“‘s, is that eventually you realize that there have been a lot of “maybe tomorrow“‘s and maybe tomorrow is never really going to be better. so what is the point?
But does anyone notice?
But does anyone care?
And if I had the guts to put this to your head…
And would anything matter if you’re already dead?
And now should I be shocked by the last thing you said?
Before I pull this trigger,
Your eyes vacant and stained…
And in saying you loved me,
Made things harder at best,
And these words changing nothing
As your body remains,
And there’s no room in this hell,
There’s no room in the next,
And our memories defeat us,
And I’ll end this direst.
none of my friends or family have time for me. i tried talking to someone at the suicide prevention hotline, and they said they were busy and to try again later. that seems really unhelpful if you ask me. think of all the people who have probably killed themselves because they had no one to talk to.
-never again will stella get to cuddle under the blankets with her mother and father
-never again will i have someone to tuck in to bed
-never again will i have someone to hold me/to hold
-never again will i have someone to watch our tv shows with
-never again will i feel safe
-never again will i feel any ambition to do anything with my life, because what is the point?
-never again will i look forward to anything
-never again will i want to be alive
-never again will i be happy.
people say “it’s ok, you’ll find someone better” but that isn’t the point. obviously i could have found someone better, but i didn’t want to. why else would i have spent 4 years living with someone who constantly argued and pushed me away. no i never liked texas, but i liked it here with you in our apartment with the kids. i CHOOSE to stay and i CHOOSE to try to make our relationship work year after year, because that is what i fucking wanted. i DON’T want someone else and i DON’T want to move and i DON’T want our family to be fucking destroyed. i DID NOT CHOOSE THIS. i had no say in it at all.
i don’t care if i could find someone better or if i could find a good job and a place to live, i don’t fucking WANT IT. i wanted to fucking stay here in this apartment that i love with my family. i want the life you promised me. if life is going to be something else, i don’t fucking want it. i do not fucking want to do this.