hamartia

ha·mar·ti·a - n. tragic flaw. [greek, from hamartanein, to miss the mark, err.] a diary of sorts

[cactuseeds]

[hamartia-memoirs]

104

You stole this from him and you stole it from me. He is your child, my brother, and you stole it because of what-if's. I will not- no, never forgive this. You are entitled to your opinion, but you robbed this from me and I will not be understanding about that. I'm his sister, his half-sister. But I'm not even a sister on half time, that you took from me a long time ago. One weekend a month, two if we're lucky, three if you chose to dump him on us so that you can live your life. But mostly one, one and a half. I get to be a sister one and a half weekend a month. And I want to have him for one extra, to experience something new, take him away where he can be himself. I wanted to create a memory that we would remember the rest of those days that I can never be close to him, and you took that away from me. I will never forgive it. Yes, in the future I might be able to you said, when he is older you said. But who is to say I will be older? Who is to say I will be there? I wanted to make him happy, I want him to have something to remember me by because I won't always be there. But you stole it.

[hamartia-memoirs]

103

You are upset. I try to help you. I try to support you. I try to be a friend. You don't want that, then fine. You don't want to meet up, fine. You say no seven times out of ten when I initiate spending time together, fine. You don't show up or give me a text and say you can't make it at the last second, fine. You hug me close and tell me you can't live without me, fine. I want to help you, put you back on your feet, bring you joy. You tell me I will never understand, fine. You confess to me, in the most hurtful way, then proceed to act like it never happened, fine. For you I can deal with it. I will be fine because you are my friend. But when you lie to me... I can not be fine. That small lie is enough to break me, because I know this is probably not the first, and for you to do that I-.. I am not fine. This is not fine. You lie, and we are fucking done.

[hamartia-memoirs]

I understand so much things you said on ur last post. I don't self harm since june (It's not a long time ago). and like you I don't know if that means that I am recovering, well actualy, I though I felt better, because I didn't have to take my medicine. but the anxiety is still here. sometimes it's hard to live with it. I don't know exactly what's happen with ur best friend, but don't let this event put it down. You passed a lot of things to let this destroy all the effort you made. take care xx

Thank you love. June, that’s amazing. I still feel like February was yesterday, that my struggle to be clean has just begun. Then I look an my calender and think, even lasting a single day clean was hard but look at all those days that have passed now. It feels better, really does. And for you to manage from June is certainly worth admiration, I am glad for you. Anxiety was as heavy and real as the weather for me. It tore at me like a blizzard at times, crippling my confidence and stealing my breath. But since February it is as if the storm has calmed. Some days it might be but a drizzle of rain, others a strong wind, but mostly just a gentle fog, enough for me to feel but as long as it doesn’t cloud my vision I can gather the courage to disregard it. I don’t know if it will get better, but I am trying my best to instead to fight it I learn to live with it, but not be afraid of challenging it from time to time. This issue with my best friend it is-… Complicated.. And now I am starting to doubt, was it her? Were she the anon that confessed to my other blog and was just skilled at lying the other day when I met her or… I am confused, but I do not feel as bad as I did a few days ago. Thank you for your consideration, it lifted my spirits. Please take care as well.

[hamartia-memoirs]

102

I don't know where to turn, so I find myself back at this blog. This blog that I swore to forsake when I had decided to walk the path to recovery. But I did not delete it, just as I have not thrown away my self harm-kit, because it is a part of me and one day I may be able to let go fully, but not this year. And so why am I here? Why am I back? Like five months ago when I was having doubts I came back, to vent and to be reminded of my I am still doing this. Recovery. Am I recovered? I honestly don't know. I haven't touched self harm since February, I've been clean for so long. But the anxiety is still here, as it always have been, and even though I put myself in situations to test my confidence, and I have gotten better, the darkness is always with me. But that is not what I wanted to talk about. I am here because of Love. Because my best friend has indirectly confessed to me and is breaking my heart with every passing minute. How dare you. I feel cheated and abused, I thought we were friends and now you do this to me. I just. I feel so pathetic right now.

[coral]

[coral]

I FOLLOW BACK 1OO%

[hamartia-memoirs]

I love you.

Wait- what- who- when-… Why?

[hamartia-memoirs]

aww im glad you ranted to me <3 feel free to anytime. it's natural to be nervous but everything will be okay. this is a huge step and obvs its nerve wrecking. but it'll all be fine. you are strong and beautiful and i know it'll be okay :*** just take some deep breaths. i know you can do it lovey.

I feel so guilty for not responding quickly enough on this blog. Your support has been a lifeline and it hurt I haven't talked to you in a while, but at least I can tell you about how things are now.

I told my dad. I told my brothers. I told my mum, my step-dad. It was horrible and I cried, and they cried. And we talked for hours, and I felt like utter garbage for weeks. But things got better and now it has almost returned to normality.

Five months and counting in recovery. No new scars. No starving. I made the trip to Italy. And people stared but I did not let it bother me. It did, but I pretended it did not. And after a while, it got easier. I still want my legs completely covered up by tattoos, but at least some of it has. I have two thigh tattoos now and I love them both dearly.

But I got into a hurdle now. I can feel the anxiety, the depressive thoughts and self-loathing crumble my self-confidence that I have worked so hard to rebuild. And it happened so fast. One comment. That was all it took. One comment, that made me feel like a waste of space and now I do not feel like I deserve any space.

But I will ride this storm through, I will talk to my friend, I will go out and walk, I will try and accomplish things. Because I cannot fail yet. Hopefully I will be happy again soon.

I love you and your support. I miss you like crazy.

[hamartia-memoirs]

101

Suddenly, I feel the resolve crumbling. Suddenly, I feel not a step closer to happiness than five months ago. Suddenly, I want to go back and change everything. Anything. So I would not end up here. Breathing. Taking place. A waste of space. Alive. Should one want to be alive, is it so strange not to. Should happiness be easier than this, is it strange to struggle to. I know what I have to do. But steps are hard. Moving is hard. At times, a heartbeat is hard. And I smile. And I pretend. And I wish and I wish that I am just fine, like everyone else. But I am not. I will not give up, I cannot. Not now. Failure can only happen when there is no one close to me that I can drag down with me. So in that sense my recovery is merely a façade. Because I only want to be fine, until I am alone, and when I am alone, I want to die. But I am not alone now so I can not give up. But I feel like a piece of shit. For taking space, for being worthless, for achieving nothing, for hurting others, for hurting myself... Maybe, failure is not that far away after all.

[hamartia-memoirs]

100

You know that feeling it the pit of your stomach. That weight lying heavy on your chest. That anxiety that keeps you from falling a sleep. That voice in the back of your head telling you you won't be alive five years from now? I'm not liking it but I'm used to it. I am not planning to die but I kind of have this feeling of inevitability. Of self-expiration. It doesn't mean I'm giving up recovery or that I'm regretting my decision to stop the self harm and self hate. It doesn't mean I'm doing all these changes to my life in vain. But that voice is a part of me and I don't know. It makes patience hard to achieve.

[inspiring-pictures]

[hamartia-memoirs]

3

I love you.<3

I'm having a mild panic/anxiety attack because I'm planning on telling my father about my scars tonight, I don't know why but I'm freaking out and my heart is beating so hard... I am just trying to remember all the kind words people have sent me on this blog to help me get to this point in recovery (2 months in a few days) and I want to be strong, I want to be strong for my family and friends so badly. Why do I have to be so nervous right now, I don't want to chicken out, I can't because I've already told everyone I'm getting my legs tattoo:ed... I've just never told them why.

Ah, sorry, ranting. I just had to vent a bit..

[confessionless]

[hamartia-memoirs]

you ignored me when I said I was sorry and I truly am. I care about you so much and I hope you get better. I never stopped caring.

I did?? When? I'm so sorry. I haven't been active on this blog for a couple of months and the same with my email, because school and private life and funerals and mental breakdowns and moving and such.

I'm very much intrigued now as to who you might be.. Please tell me, I'm sorry very very sorry for coming across like a douche. I had no intention to do so. It warms my heart that someone could care about me, and now I'm getting emotional, i'm sorry.

[hamartia-memoirs]

how are things with your parents?

My relationship with my mum is improving, has improved ever since I moved permanently to my father. And as always I love my father and want to make him proud.

But I am growing up and I need to face the fact that I self harm and tell my parents, most urgently my father because he wants to take a trip to Italy this summer and I'd rather show him before we take flight.

So I am walking around nervous and anxious, wondering when the right opportunity is to tell your father you've contemplated suicide for five years and self harmed for longer than that.

But other than that...

[hamartia-memoirs]

I am worried about a lot of things.

I am worried about telling my father about my scars. I am worried about getting my thighs tattooed. I am worried about relapsing. I am worried about failing recovery. I am worried about my friends finding out I am nothing like the mask I wear. I am worried about never fitting into my life. I am worried of disappointing a lot of people. I am worried that I will always be alone. I am worried of throwing away my cutting-kit. I am worried that the suicidal thoughts will come back. I am worried of getting fatter. I am worried I will never accept myself. I am worried I will never be the person I aspire to become. I am worried I will not be alive five months from now. I am worried that I will not graduate. I am worried I will not find a job. I am worried people will judge me. I am worried that I will care. I am worried that time is flying past and I am staying frozen in place. I am worried that I will not make it forward. I am worried about things not getting easier.

I am worried about a lot of things.

[hamartia-memoirs]

please please please get better, I love you so much. You are not broken.

I am truly trying right now and I will do my best. Thank you for the support. I love you too, whomever you may be, and if there’s anything I can do to help you or support you please tell me and I’ll do it.