I woke up at 5:30 this morning. I chose not to workout. I could have, but I needed to start today slow. Real slow. I read a message today from a (sort of) friend, he was looking for someone to do a job. I did something scary. I said I could do it.
I lost faith in myself and my ability a week or so ago. I stopped and had no idea why I am doing what I’m doing. Why did I choose to study what I’m studying? Why? When I am clearly incapable of doing it. I still don’t know. It’s been weeks and I still don’t know.
So, I did something scary.
I told him I could do it. I know it’s a lie, but perhaps this will lead to something good. Maybe it could lead to a little bit of faith.
washed some of the dishes and sorted my laundry. I have so much to do today. I think. Sweep, mop, make those mock-ups, start building that app, meal prep and study for that test. I don’t know if it’s too much work or none at all. I want to jump rope tomorrow morning. Maybe do some strength training. I need to finish all my work before 9:30 so I can be asleep by 10. Maybe I can be up by 5:30.
I have so many things I want to say to you. I never get the chance to say them. It’s funny how you think you’re the only one suffering. It’s strange, I don’t want to tell you of my pain. I don’t want to let you in. Not like that. Not any more. Not ever. But I still have things I need to say. I need to tell you that I’m sorry for my part of the trauma. I need to tell you that it hurts when I try and it’s like nothing matters. I need to tell you that I want to fix it, but I don’t know where to start and I can’t do it alone. What’s the likeliness that I’ll say these things anyway…
I have no space or energy in my heart right now. Not even for myself. And that scares me.
One step at a time though. I have to do those dishes and work a little smart today. I need to keep moving. I won’t stay in bed till 3pm again. No. Today will be different.
Get your shit together. Get it all together and put it in a backpack. All your shit, so that it’s together. And if you’ve gotta take it somewhere, take it somewhere. Take it to the shit store and sell it or put it in a shit museum. I don’t care what you do, you just gotta get it together. Get your shit together.
My house is a mess. An absolute mess. A mountain of clothes blocking the door and dishes upon dishes some with…you know…mould. Yeah. I’ve been living like I have no standards. Though this week I haven’t really had any have I? I’ve been a mess. I’m a mess. It’s strange…it’s like everything stopped and so did I and as much as I pretend to keep going…I’m not. It’s a lie.
It needs to end.
I can’t just stop. I can’t just shut down and pretend that everything’s okay. It’s not.
I need to clean my house.
I need to exercise and stop eating cereal every damn night.
I know the hurt won’t go.
I know the motivation won’t appear in seconds.
I know that I need to start moving so that I can move on.
I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix it. I’m trying. I’m trying. Why isn’t it enough? Why not. Why am I the one who isn’t hurting? Why am I the one who’s had it good? Why can’t I say it? Why can’t I fucking say it? I don’t sleep. I can’t focus. I’m crying all the damn time. All the damn time. In the shower, on the floor, in my bed, in the bathroom…as I do the fucking dishes. I’m crying right now. I know that I’m not enough. Damn it I know that I don’t have what you need. I know that I am always going to be the monster. I know that it will always be my fault. I know….but I will still get up in the morning and offer to buy you lunch.
I failed. I failed my test. Pathetic. I didn’t score half. I failed and felt so damn shitty because I was supposed to be better. I studied. I read and fucking gave it everything and I failed. So I went home and after some time cried a little because…well…. just because. What else do you do when you feel like absolute shit?
It’s just a piece of paper.
Just a test.
Just….something less significant than you think. Yet here I am, treating this like it’s some defining moment.
I was supposed to be better. I deserve better and so I have to work for it right? Work harder, be better. And nothing. NOTHING!
I’ve sat in my room for over an hour doing little to nothing because I just lack the motivation. Next I’ll probably sit in the dark thinking that I deserve better and should have pushed harder. Stayed up longer. Then it comes back. That stupid fucking voice.
I just needed to talk so someone. I just needed to talk to anyone. I still need that. I need to talk to anyone. I could say there’s no one to talk to…but that’s not true. I spoke to mum and it helped. Then no one for a while. Everyone was busy. I don’t know if I can judge…I’ll try not to…but they don’t get to judge me for being busy…Then a little company for some time at around 7:30 maybe 8…
At least in the end there was someone to talk to.
It leads to nightmares and all sorts of unpleasant shit. There’s sadness for you. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know. I’m awake. I am bloody awake. All I can think of is how happy I used to be. I used to be so happy. Ridiculously happy. Now…I’m just another girl, staring into the bloody darkness thinking “I deserve better than this, right?”