71 days.

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@scarsthatbind
71 days.
I am not doing okay. I feel like there’s barely been a day in the last year and a half where I haven’t thought about finally ending everything.
The last two weeks in particular have been a struggle. I feel like I'm always drowning. A childhood friend confided in me that she was considering killing herself and instead of devoting myself to consoling her and changing her mind, like I usually do... I just felt empty.
Plenty of people see me as interesting, but none ever see me as loveable.
I can't bear to look in the mirror anymore.
I am trying so goddamn hard to keep going.
But every little setback, every little slight, every little failure, just keeps piling up and piling up until I feel like I can’t breathe under the weight of it all.
And I can’t let anyone know.
So I keep smiling and I keep laughing at myself with you, and I keep pretending that I'm fine, and I keep pretending that it doesn’t hurt me… but it fucking does. It always has.
And I'm exhausted.
if you’re someone who is mad (read very) sensitive/caring especially when it comes to being empathetic to or protective of other people’s feelings, don’t martyr yourself. don’t let people treat you shitty just because you feel like telling someone about themselves would make things worse. don’t absorb tension because you dislike confrontation. don’t be silent about your hurt feelings to protect theirs. your feelings matter just as much as anyone else’s and you shouldn’t ever have to shoulder the burden of pain to salvage a relationship whether it be platonic or romantic. internalizing hurt because you don’t want the person hurting you to be uncomfortable does no one any good. they get to go along knowing or not knowing they’re hurting you without any consequences. meanwhile, you’re being crushed. there is no honor in sacrificing your well-being (or sanity) for someone else’s.
so I learned. to not call them your best friend unless they think of you the same way. to not try to pry a friendship that has faded too far. to not attempt to fit into a group that they love more than you. to not act like you care about them. because in reality, if they are not trying to sustain the loving and caring closeness that once existed 2 years ago, it’s time to let go. and so I learned. that it’s too late to try. that we once were the greatest of friends. but now I just stand back in loneliness. unnoticed. and unwanted.
I learned (via 2ndsong)
It's kind of fucked up that I refer to seeing my sister for the first time in 2 years as "going into battle" but it's true. I'm exhausted.
sometimes i wish my brain had a switch off button or something
Basically the whole last two weeks. It’s a harsh truth to realise you don’t matter to people like you thought you did.
I am so tired of always trying, and failing. I am tired of never being the one chosen by anyone. I am tired of myself. I am just so very, very tired.
My head is full of the friends who have left me today. People who even after years and years of friendship, have dropped me. Without a word, just cut me off. Like I didn't mean anything to them. Like I never mattered to them. Is it any wonder that I never feel like I matter to anyone anymore? Or that I struggle being friends with anyone now that I know that any of my friends, no matter how close we are, might just up and cut me off tomorrow without any warning.
I’ve started taking antidepressants again after being off them for nearly two years. I’ve been really hesitant to take them after the complete clusterfuck Effexor XR was for me- I had over a year of shitty side effects combined with one of the darkest pits of depression I’ve ever been in, and 2 months of horrible withdrawals when I finally got off it. So even now, when I haven’t been doing okay for a long time, it still didn’t seem that bad in comparison. I started taking 10mg of Lexapro 3 days ago, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. The first day I felt pretty good- the best I’d felt in a long time. I finally had some motivation to do something, and wasn’t dwelling on my relationships with my friends and family anymore. But that only lasted that one day. So I know I need to keep hanging in there, because it can take up to 6 or 7 weeks to start working, but it feels so crushing to finally feel okay and then go back to my usual state of self-loathing and apathetic depression.Â
The one thing that travelling has taught me is that no one misses me when I’m gone.
It's a heavy burden to bear, when your job is to console your mother when she starts recognising she was an awful parent and the affects this had on her children. And even though you know this, so much she did has been unspoken and you don't want her to hurt her so you have to lie and reassure her that no, she wasn't a terrible parent, and her children are fine.
So I’ve picked a day.
I don’t have much decided yet since the date I picked is next year. That way it gives me plenty of time to try and make things change before then, or make amends.
It probably sounds morbid, but I actually chose my next birthday. I figure it’s going to be a crappy day anyway for my parents, so might as well not make them suffer through that and another different date as well.
This isn’t a cry for help. Nothing’s set in stone. I don’t actually know why I’m even posting this, honestly. Maybe it’s because I finally feel so peaceful.