thank you for getting back to me. I hope you don‘t mind me leaving you this last message here, because I wish I had had the opportunity to say goodbye too.Â
I am not sure you will ever see this, because you might not even look up my blog. But I didn’t know how I could put it out any other way, for it to reach you, even if only in 5, 10 or 15 years.
The devastation I feel cannot be put into words. I started writing this sitting in the bus to head to my nightshift, so it may lack eloquence. But how does one say a final goodbye to someone so important in a good manner anyway? You can never prepare for grief to hit you. For the loss of someone.
I thank you for being blunt to me about it — I wouldn’t have understood it otherwise due to autism or such, you know how I am. So definitely don’t worry about being blunt about what you want in life, I encourage you to keep this up!Â
I will respect your decision and I do understand it — you’re asking me not to contact you for your and my sake, because I don’t have the strength to let you go, if it wasn‘t imposed on me. Although it pains me and will continue to pain me for the rest of my life as much as it does to you, I will start to let you go. I find that grief over losing people you once loved never subsides, we take it to our graves, for it is indeed the continuation of love.
Before we never speak to each other again, I want to say that I deeply regret to have hurt you — such a lovely, the loveliest human being — during our relationship due to my own problems and life‘s circumstances. I am so sorry that I suffocated you with my insatiable need to be close, that I crushed you under the weight of my grip.Â
And I don‘t want to leave it unexpressed that you have my forgiveness for everything that has happened and that I will never feel indifferent to you or resent you because of anything. So please do not hurt yourself with bad coping mechanisms and alcohol.
Thank you for walking a path of my life side by side with me, I‘ll never forget you.
I will always feel fond of you and love you and think of you in everyday life, for your memory is everywhere — never doubt that.
I‘ll even love the versions of you that I will not get the privilege of witnessing, to be part of, because I know you, I know you to your core.Â
I genuinely wish you all the best, and that you‘ll live a fulfilling and happy life — how *you* want it to be, not your family, your parents, or anyone else.
This is your life to live and ‚sit with’, not anyone else‘s, so you shouldn‘t live it according to anyone but your own wishes.
If you can ever, in the future, bear to send me a postcard or visit when you‘re around, or feel lost in life and need a friend, I will be there for you. I will always be there for you.
Despite all my love, I understand you‘re asking me to let you go for both our sake.
I wish it hadn‘t come to this, but I don‘t want to continue to be a pain for you.
When I think of you, I will always only want to remember the feeling and perfectness of us sitting on that cosy couch, in a tiny cafe somewhere in Fr. Of you so blissfully sunbathing next to the museum, sitting outside a cafe. Riding our bikes around the fields side by side.
My balcony.
To be loved and love someone, despite.Â
To grant you your wish, I now bid you the fondest of farewells and I send you a very tight hug and a final goodbye kiss, my mouselet.
Up here you see a few photos I took this week. I had wanted to arrange them separately but I can’t find the strength to organise this post much (sorry, its all over the place). The felted bunnies made me think of you and I wanted to get one for you but I am not supposed to. The candles are in the religious mourning room. It is located adjoined to the front hall where my reception is, so during nightshifts I go to lay down in there and try to rest a bit (theres a bench). I often get mentally unwell around 2-3 AM during my nightshifts. Everything just gangs up to torture me. The melon bread was disgusting. The highlight of my week was to go to the lake after my first nightshift and feed the ducks and swans some sunflowerseeds.
This week I tried different methods to stop myself from dissociating. And it worked most of the time. Once the numbness of dissociation fell away, though, I dissolved into tears; when I took a walk around the lake, when I sat in public transport, when I was at work, when I woke up in the morning, when I sat in the living room. I’m always in tears.
Always, Dad and you. Dad and you.
I think feeling how much it hurts me to have lost the both of you is still better than to dissociate and feel nothing.
Theres a scene in One Piece after the Wa no Kuni Arc where Momonosuke runs to the shore to bid the Strawhats Farewell as they leave the island. He sobs and begs them to stay and not leave him like a toddler. I felt like him in that scene this past week.
On Saturday, when I felt like I would get ill, I went to the city to eat chicken soup in an asian diner that I used to go to when I started uni in 2017. It usually helped me to get strong again. Unfortunately they’ve been closed for some reason for many months now. I then went to have soup at an other asian diner, it was only 2€ and the people probably thought I was homeless (I looked rather dishevelled and done with life) because they gave me a relatively large bowl and lots of vegetables.
It does wonders for your soul to eat a hearty soup when you’re feeling poorly.
On Sunday I visited Marina, Sharon’s friend (well, our childhood friend). She broke up with her boyfriend of seven years recently. We talked about a lot of topics like identity, mothers, parental emotional neglect and abandonment. She told me that she just hangs with random people because shes so lonely (she lives in another state and we can’t easily visit her) and she takes whatever company she can get so that she is distracted and that she doesn’t really like the girls she goes out to party with. That she thinks theyre rather shallow contacts. Its hard when someone doesn’t have a social network that breaks their fall and the person has to carry all of it themselves. We ended up just talking and we watched an episode of ‘Bodies’ on Netflix. Its a murder mystery show.
I started crying when I got back home from that visit. I felt so overwhelmed and exhausted and sad about everything around me and in my own life.
Other than that I’ve not done much this week other than work (when I work nightshifts and get home from work at 7 AM in the morning there’s really not much of me left to use for anything during the day) and sleep and rot in bed due to feeling terrible. Unfortunately my shift schedule continues to be awful the next days and I’m thinking about calling in sick soon. I desperately need to rest.
Someone put a nail in my bike tire (the one you rode) and I brought it upstairs from the bike cellar to my balcony to repair it. I curse the person who deliberately put a nail in it.
During my walk through the city I also went to a pakistani store and saw this! I remember you cracking up about it in F.
How was that in 2022? I seem to have no general sense of time passing the entirety of 2023. After dad died in June, I have no recollection of time passing.
This morning I saw mum for the first time in about a month? I felt unsettled by my therapist talking to me in detail about my cycle of dissociation and what harm it brings to myself and the relationships to other people around me, because I apparently perceive reality fragmented, or selective, when I am dissociated (which I am most of the time). I‘m horrified to see the mechanisms of my brain play out in these ways, that I don‘t want.
My mother asked me how I was but she hadnt in weeks (she simply started an argument and left me when I was so unwell because of things between us a few weeks ago). I couldn‘t tell her. What use has it? She can‘t handle me feeling unwell and things will only get worse, if I tell her.
Unfortunately, not telling her how I am was also a wrong decision. She started accusing me of not actually wanting to see her and why am I pulling auch a depressed face and won‘t talk to her?!
Then she defended my older brother and his ex-girlfriend (the mother of my niece) and basically said that its my niece‘s own fault that her mother treats her badly. I can‘t believe how this cycle of parental neglect and abuse continues into the next generations, just because the adults in the child‘s life are irresponsible and egoistic. And I‘m sitting there with over 10 years of therapy, because of how my mum and dad were and my mother still defends other neglectful and abusive parents’ behaviour!
I couldn‘t bear it anymore and just got up without a word, paid (was cussed out by a grandma in the process) and left.
I don’t have much things to look forward to. I ordered a weighted blanket to help my sleep without medication. I also got a package of Palo Santo incense, which makes my flat smell cosy when I take naps.
I have to go back to work tomorrow and work through until next Wednesday and I’m thinking about calling in sick on Monday.
I felt miserable looking at your blog yesterday and seeing that you wish to experience ‚it‘ again, that you post about ‚letting love in again‘ I am not sure what you meant by that but my mind makes me think you‘re wishing to fall in love again…
How many times can I feel like I am losing the same person over and over again? I’m scared to look at your blogs now. I wish I could see something and know that you miss me and that you love me forever and be content and never look it up again.
Yesterday I went to the cellar and rummaged in your box. I found a transcript of the first ‚goodbye‘ Message you sent me in January 2023. I knew it was there. In it, you don‘t avoid telling me that you love me (I felt like your message from this January avoided using the word ‚love’ and it made me anxious about the reasons). I heard your voice say the words to me then and I started crying and breaking down in the cellar, my knees just gave in.
All that rumination about me being abandoned is probably not helping my mental wellbeing. Spending hours and days composing these entries and not knowing if they ever reach you, is also playing into this.
I don‘t know what to do, I am so so sad about it all, I just feel like giving up everything and letting go of life.
My sole hope is that I feel a bit better when it gets warmer, so that I can lay in the meadow with the sun on my skin, with the treetops swaying in the wind.
a poem written by Herman Melville in the last year of his life after harboring a (mostly) unrequited love for fellow author Nathaniel Hawthorne for the final forty years of his life.Â
