Author: L.A.

I vomited this morning. My stomach can’t stop churning and my mind can’t stop thinking about everything between us. I’ve only ever cried like that with you.

I’m trying to save us. That’s all I can keep hearing but it gives me some sense of ease. I’m happy we talked. We have so much love for each other; it’s hard to ignore it. You still love me. I could hear it in the softness of your tone and the intention of your call alone was enough for me to know. But there’s also so much pain in our voices. I should be regretting this, hoping for you to forget me but I can’t help but feel relief. I can’t help it. It’s selfish, I’m sorry. Maybe it’s because as hard as this is I know that we’re feeling the exact same way. We’re struggling together. We’re fighting for our lives and for each other to finally be happy. To move on.

I thought I had been handling my emotions a little better this week. I’ve been drinking every night. Not too much though. It helps. I’ve been putting everything out of my mind. But as soon as I see any sense of compassion from you, I crumble and I get pulled under. Like being caught in the undertow, I keep getting dragged back and I can’t move on. Do you truly want me to move on? (I wonder.) Hate me. Hurt me. Give me mercy and just blow my brains out.

The world reminds me of you. Everywhere I go. Everything I see. I keep writing you letters that I may never send. I keep taking photos of things I may never share. It’s my way of coping, perhaps. There are so many things I wish I could show and say to you but I’m still so terrified of the thought of interacting with you. I don’t want it to be hard on you too.

How did we ever get like this? I wish it were different. I’m sorry for everything.

I finished 1984 today. Felt a sudden impulse to sit around Berzcy Park, the one with the weird dog fountain. I sat amongst cast-iron statues of dogs and a couple of cats, while reading about a man’s face being strapped to a rat-cage contraption.

He was right. The ending gets a lot more depressing than you can expect. It was difficult for me to finish Part III. There were a lot of themes that really put into focus the emotions I was personally struggling with: acceptance of the inevitable… anxiety over an uncertain future and, above all, ambiguous feelings haunted by memories of a former time. Reaching the last page, I couldn’t help but feel a larger sense of cessation.

I guess this is goodbye.

I’m fighting with everyone. My close relationships feel like they’re falling apart. I know it’s mostly my fault. My behaviour and mood is definitely taking a toll on the those who have to deal with them. I was scolded for not being able to handle pressure. I was yelled at for causing unnecessary worry by being rash and cold. And just last night, I was expressed disappointment by not knowing better. It hurts. I felt like I was at my lowest point but I’m still getting drag below. I know they care and trying their hardest to be patient with me. I’m trying to be patient too.

I’m sorry.

I had three hours of sleep. I don’t feel particularly tired but I know my body needs more rest. I’ve had severe lack of sleep these last couple of days and my skin is in horrible condition. My appetite is getting worse.

When is this all going to pass? When can we be happy again?

I’m on a plane, on my way to Denver. I’m trying to convince myself that I’m not running away from anything and instead, I’m spending the time to pay attention to myself. I think it’s working. You know, take care of myself, listen to my feelings. That sort of thing. This, right now, seems like a good idea… but it may turn up being really bad. I’m prepared to take on the worst. I’ve been warned before that I might feel extremely alone and that I might not have the emotional support that I need. Another person told me that running away was dumb. I’ve had these things in mind. I thought about it extremely carefully and now the decision cannot be undone. I feel broken. I feel lost. And I think I’m in search of something but I don’t know what.

Will my heart stop if I hold my breath?

These last few days have been especially hard on me. My stomach has been churning and I have little to no appetite. I keep coughing because it feels like something’s in my throat. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to be kind to myself. I’ve been staying in. I ripped the old posters off my walls. They didn’t mean anything to me. So I’ve slowly been putting up all the things that do have meaning. I find myself just sitting around, looking at it this wall of mine. It made me feel better. Yesterday, my work on it had to come to a pause because there was a shelf I had to pick up and put up before I could position whatever posters I had left. I didn’t have mood or energy to do anything else. I just spent the rest of the time in bed.

//

Can’t look at 1984 the same anymore but I brought with me.

“Patience is the master key to every situation. One must have sympathy for everything, surrender to everything, but at the same time remain patient and forbearing… There is no such thing as bending or breaking. It’s a question only of overcoming, which begins with overcoming oneself. That cannot be avoided. To abandon that path is always to break in pieces. One must patiently accept everything and let it grow within oneself. The barriers of the fear-ridden I can only be broken by love. One must, in the dead leaves that rustle around one, already see the young fresh green of spring, compose oneself in patience, and wait. Patience is the only true foundation on which to make one’s dreams come true.”

“Hehe” is probably the worse thing to look at when you’re depressed. Friends have been trying to offer me consolation… but sometimes the things they end up saying make me feel worse off. Like “hehe”.

I feel like I have no one to talk to. I think about reaching out and then I can’t help but stop myself because I don’t want to burden anyone or anyone more than I already have. I know that’s on me. But even for the times I’ve been selfish, throwing all this on another, I feel like they can’t really offer the solace I need. So why bother? I’m better off grabbing the stranger next to me, sob into their shoulder, and walk away without speaking or seeing them again. If I hired a therapist, I wonder if they’d let me do that.

If there’s any one thing I could do right now, I’d stop thinking about others. The inability to do that is so frustrating that it makes me cry. I just really want to focus on my feelings and focus on myself.

https://open.spotify.com/track/2lwwrWVKdf3LR9lbbhnr6R?si=N1FVPO-LRkap9lNA7LnwRQ

You gave me everything

And then you took it all away.

I have this overwhelming conflict in me. One side of me wants to scramble, carry out every desperate attempt so I can hear your voice, see your face, or simply see your reply again. Another side of me wants me to let you go, let you find happiness, release you from this unfair emotional vice I’ve had on you.

It’s painful, but I think deep down, we both knew that we needed this.