Vulnerable Thoughts Of A Lost Soul

Musings from the deepest recesses of my soul. Thoughts I never admitted to a single soul for fear of radiating weakness and emptiness, feelings that everyone seems to think is wrong. Being strong, faking a smile, it gets tiring, it's exhausting. I want to be real. I want to be me.

[amy11011rn]

Thoughts swirl around me in a way that I don't get much grip on a single one. I'm trying. Day by day it gets easier.

[amy11011rn]

[amy11011rn]

[amy11011rn]

Until we're 58

Together until we’re 58. That was the promise. That was the deal. We did the math, we planned it all, considered the logistics and contingencies. We have up until we’re 58.

We had 6 months instead. The intensity, the passion, the contentment, the love. We had it all for 6 months. We had it all. The pain, the fights, the compromises, the deals and deal breakers. The love was constant. The wishing, the hoping that the world doesn’t work the way it does.

We thought we had up until we’re 58, we had 6 months instead.

[amy11011rn]

May 30, 2019

Just when you start thinking everything is falling into its rightful places, just when you think you have everything firmly in between your own hands, just when you start imagining a happy ever after, it’s gonna crack open, it’s gonna start falling apart, it’s gonna burn so hard the fire will consume you and everything you believe in and you thought you knew.

And it’s going to hurt, it’s going to hurt so bad you wish it never even began at all. The pain will be unbearable, you would want to end it. It will be so hard to breathe that it makes you want to stop. You would go through hazy, blurry days that you cannot understand anything that’s happening around you. It would be too hard to get a grip on anything at all no matter how hard you try, you won’t even want to try, truth be told.

But you would keep on going. Day by day, hour by hour, moment by moment actually. You would try and surround yourself with people or you would drown your sorrow on the darkness of your own room all alone, or maybe you will drink yourself to your early grave or even use chemicals to dumb you down.

Mornings will be excruciating yet you would get up and plaster a smile on your face. Believe me, baby, day by day it will get easier with time. It won’t get better, baby, it won’t. But it will get easier. And then harder again. There’s always gonna be a relapse where you think your resolve is crumbling and the pain will come back like it just happened earlier that day. And every relapse, you’ll get back up faster, easier and you will be stronger to face the world than the previous time. It will get easier.

Have faith in yourself, bear with yourself. Go easy on yourself and above all, value yourself more than anyone. Start thinking of yourself first before you do anyone. You do you, sweetheart. You do you. And when the pain comes back, you won’t get hit like you’ve been shot with a shotgun through your whole body, you would smile to yourself and recognise how much you’ve been through and yet here you are, still able to stand tall and smile.

[amy11011rn]

June 5, 2019

A year ago, I was in love. I was so in love I threw all my cares and worries away. I was happy. So happy I dared myself to start thinking of a happy ending. The same time this year, I’ve let myself believe in love. That I could be loved. I’ve let myself believe that I am beautiful and interesting. I’ve somehow connected all that with having a real partner, and I had all those last year.

Last year I was so happy. It is breathtaking how much change I’ve been through. From that giddy-girl to what I am now. I feel lost, insecure, unloved, alone and frightened.

There would be days where I find myself quivering in the dark. Unable to move ordering myself to breathe in and out and to keep doing so. There are times where I catch myself in the middle of a conversation zoning out and getting dragged into my head in pain and in fear. Laughing with everyone and realising my laughter is as fake as the smile I force when I’m alone looking at the mirror cheering myself up.

I feel too far away from everyone and everything. I’m too focused on my own negative thoughts that I cannot be fully present anywhere with anyone. My angry thoughts govern my waking hours and the depressed ones keeps pressing on the side all day long. Yet I keep projecting the persona everyone got used to. The kind person, always smiling and loud person that I am. It’s hard to keep on going that way more so when my anger towards myself gets into a point where it is too hard to swallow anything or even live with your own self.

Yet here I am still keeping at it. I’m hoping for a better tomorrow. I have hope, that’s the only thing I have left.

[amy11011rn]

[amy11011rn]

July 18, 2015

Happiness. Self acceptance. Self worth. Belongingness.

What are this words. What does it mean. What does it take to have it.

Same month last year, i was ecstatic. I was happy. I was satisfied. I felt loved. I felt whole. Or was I? Was that how it really was for me? Or was it just the idea of having someone to speak with everyday so new and appealing that it covered up the flaws of what i was doing? Never mind the faultiness of it, just the mere idea of it being real is ridiculous. That the feeling i thought i felt during those times would be so real up until now. I don't believe how it was before yet how i feel about it is still haunting me. Up until now.

It wasn't love, it was the need to have someone. And he was there saying the right words at the right time, knowing what to say in every scenario, having something new to tell everyday. And i was a sucker to story tellers. He was a talker. He can talk for hours and i would just listen. I don't talk much, i have nothing to say except lies and then more lies. That's how it was for me for months and months and it all ended. With nothing to show for it.

I ask myself everytime I remember if it was real. And yes, it was. It was as real as it could be.

But there's always this thing nagging in my head. Did he ever listen? Did he showed enough interest about how it is for me? The answer is no. It has always been about him. Did he put on an effort to be with me, the answer is no. I would be in emotional despair and he would be sleeping or out with friends. That's how it was. I was not blind to it. I just accepted it as it is. Issues that bothers us both, he would only bring out his concerns and how we could fix it. And i just kinda accepted and I thought that it was my role to wait up just so we can talk. He would be available on his free time and i always make myself available for him no matter what. That's how pathetic i was. And that's who i base all my next relationships with afterwards.

It's just now that I am about to do the same thing again that makes me think over things. I don't want to be like that anymore. I don't want to be that girl any longer.

Writing about it makes me see things more clearly, and i see it now and makes me realize more than i could ever type down.

It wasn't love. It was the idea of being loved that made me love and made me think I am in love.

[amy11011rn]

October 9, 2016

Get naked, into the shower you go.

Remove all traces of the day. Wash all of the dirt away.

Dry yourself and wear that red long sleeved dress you feel so comfortable sleeping on.

Close all doors, make sure it's locked up.

Turn the AC on, switch all the lights off.

Lay down on your mat that's been on the floor for days.

Curl up, drag the blanket over your body.

Stare at the darkness, listen to the stillness of your surrounding.

The mechanical sound that the air conditioner gives off turns into a lullaby after a while.

It won't make you asleep, but it will make you lose track of time.

Closed or open, your eyes will see nothing all the same, aside from the haunted past you keep on burying.

You count your breathing, it's the only thing that's keeping your grip.

You breathe some more, you count some more.

Until the room gets lighter and you feel the start of day break and hear the birds chirping merrily.

You check the time and it's socially acceptable to get ready so you get up and you get ready for another day.

The cycle goes on and on everyday and all is, as usual, a okay.

[amy11011rn]

September 5, 2016

You're escaping the monsters of your life.

You've blocked it out for so long now.

One faithful day, you just snap.

You lose it. You're standing there surrounded by strangers.

Everyone is blabbering, yet you hear nothing, you feel numb,

you're just blank.

Suddenly the walls, the floor and the ceiling converges on you,

crushing you.

You can't breathe, you can't move.

You're just there, standing, existing, watching everything unfold and crumble.

You take a breath, air fills your lungs yet it is not enough to fill you up,

to calm you down.

You feel the need to lay down, curl into a ball and let everything go.

You smile to the person asking how you are,

told them you are great while slowly walking away, back set straight,

both your hands balled into a fist, in your pocket.

Somebody else calls out your name, you turn around, smiled,

listen to what they're asking for, nodding your head in fake comprehension

and telling them you're on it.

You walk away, inside your room, lock the door behind you,

as tears begin to fill your eyes and the panic kicks you.

You hug yourself, sit on the corner, you keep your knees tight against your chest

bite down on your knee, and take fast deep breathes.

You count to ten and count some more.

You push the panic to the back of your head and you smile,

then you count to ten and then stand.

You check yourself in the mirror, fixed a smile on your face

and you go out of the room.

They won't see you for who you are. Not now, they won't.

And you try even harder to hide and be alright.

Endless cycle of pretense and lies. That's what you are.

That's how it is, how it always has been.

[amy11011rn]

June 25, 2015

I seek love and affection from strange men. I am in a point where those men's desire became the gauge of my happiness and fulfillment. A point where not being with any man wooing me is a wasted time. Its the only thing that relaxes me and makes me sleep better at night.

I don't play out sexually, I never could make myself do that. Yes, I may have played a bit and will continue doing so. Teasing and beating around is the only thing that keeps me bfrom falling into the pit of depressing thoughts and unwelcome reality.

Its unhealthy and i don't even feel good doing it. But its the only way i can keep my sanity. It's the only way i know how to fake the feeling of belongingness i so desperately ache for.

Night after night, day after day, it's a battle just to feel something. Anything at all. Just a tinge to make me feel, to make me feel alive. To make me see that somehow i can illicit some response from another being that would prove that i can feel too. That in someway, somehow, i would feel. Not the emptiness that constantly accompanies me, just something to feel.

I would even welcome pain and fear. Just so i don't feel so alone in this vast emptiness of my being.

I tried, I've been trying And will continue doing so. For the hope that maybe i would find a way to stop feeling unfulfilled. To stop myself using other people to gauge my own worth. To find my peace and whatever it is that makes people happy.

So that's the only thing i have, a hope. As hopeless as it may sound, sometimes its the only thing that keeps someone going. And it does keep me going. I even forget sometimes. Which is way better than feeling.

If only i can forget forever.

[amy11011rn]

January 1, 2019

Tears are mostly gone

Pain has become bearable even

Yet both are still in there

Waiting to be unleashed, bidding it’s time to be released.

Loneliness slowly creeps

Never seeking for solitude and silence

Lest the fog lifts and the wall crumbles

Crushing the weak base of a foolish strength.

It is easier said than done

Letting go, moving on

Forgetting and forgiveness

When it comes to it, the heart fails to give and the mind is too weak to accept defeat.

Pride and ego lends no mercy

Boisterous laughter in public shows

Only sleep offers the best reprieve

Temporary death for every emotions that needs to be hidden and kept.

Strong, fun and with a quick wit

Amazing and awesome image to be upheld

It takes too much to stage and keep

Yet the only saviour that keeps sanity in check.

Charade of coldheartedness

Posing a brave smiling face

Surrounded with loud unending boastful stories

Slowly getting crippled by showing off lies and deceitful word plays

Naughty grins, know-it-all smirks

Batting eyelids every now and then

Flirting here, showing love and affection galore

Masquerade ball in the open, losing control behind closed doors

[amy11011rn]

Vulnerable thoughts

May 29, 2019

I haven’t been alone for a long long time. I never had the chance to think about me all by myself. I never did actually, I’ve buried myself with work and made a conscious effort not to think about you and what happened. I’ve been walking around rather aimlessly the past few days and memories of you kept nagging at me. It’s lonely. It is. Walking around alone and the memory of your hand holding mine keeps me company. Walking under the rain with your arm around my shoulder and mine wrapped around your waist is a bittersweet recollection. I miss you, I miss you so. There’s no denying the fact that I do. I know you’re gone and I will never see you again. But it’s a small world, somehow there’s a small voice inside my head that keeps me wishing and hoping that I see you again when everything gets better. That somehow we’re going to meet again and somehow be happy together once more. A wishful thinking, I know, you just have to blame the hopeful, wistful little girl in me who believes in happy endings, fairytales and magic. It sometimes calms me down, imagining scenarios where we meet again, when my anxiety and depression kicks me further down. Your memory serves as my peace and pain both at once. I wonder if you think of me that way that I do you, I think you do, I believe you do. You loved me, that much I’m sure of. And you might love me still after all the time that has passed.

Our relationship met a rather tragic end and I sometimes find myself in gratitude that it did. I needed the pain to grow as an individual. I was settling before. You were my easy way out. I would’ve used you like I did with everyone else. I did use you. I was using you to escape me and my lack of desire. And you made me happy. Something that I never thought I’ve always been incapable of feeling before.

I loved you then, I love you still. I’d be lying to myself if I deny the fact that I want us still. That I hope we both grow and find ourselves still wanting to be together. That you find yourself wanting to be together again. I wish that, I do, I still do. But I won’t do anything to make that happen. I’m done reaching out now. So I hope you do. I really hope you do.

Before that happens, i just hope I have myself put together, that I’m done fucking my life around, that goes both ways by the way. I hope we both get our lives sorted out. I hope we find our happiness one way or another. We both deserve it.