|| Ze Cast || Funniest / Best Blogs on the web || My Writings ||

Best viewed with Mozilla Firefox/Google Chrome

Please don't feel as though you have to follow me in return of my following your blog, I'd rather you only do so out of genuine interest. C:

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Just Waiting for Proof that there’s Sunsets and Silhouette Dreams

I know that this blog was supposed to be positive, and even though I’m incredibly confused and scared and practically running around in circles during the few minutes when my head isn’t stuck five feet under the ground in order to avoid reality, well, I still think I’m in a much better place than, well, where I was when I wrote a certain post on my LiveJournal which I have only just re-read. Let me tell you, I do not ever want to be back there again. (Not LiveJournal, but in how I was thinking and feeling during that post ;P)

The post is dated the 30th of September, 2008, and I’m pretty much incoherent. I can’t even formulate sentences. As for what I’m detailing with the words I’m getting out, that’s pretty scary too. I wanted to die, and I say that, several times over.

Here are some excerpts. “I don't want to be dead. But I don't want to be alive… I'm dying inside. No I feel already dead. So then why am I still crying constantly. Why do I still feel so sick all the time, I can't even walk, can't talk, I collapsed the other day at home, i couldn't stand up anymore, i practically fell to sit on the floor… I think I fucking lost my heart when I read those words. I don't want to keep going. But there's nothing else to do. I'm not so stupid as to kill myself... I can't even breathe properly. i didn't know i could cry this much. i want to die. i really just do. I can't even explain what i'm thinking. please just let me die. i can't do this. i want to cut myself into a million shreds, to reflect the pieces of my heart. I am struggling for words. I don't know what i'm doing or saying, i can't focus or concentrate... I want to die.”

It actually terrifies me to remember feeling that. My mind just would not work, and I would come home after school and cry and cry and could not physically speak, I couldn’t sleep and when I did, I’d have dream after dream that I could not handle. I didn’t do any school work, and I have no idea how I held myself together at school at all. It was like I was in the most terrible nightmare, and I kept pleading with my mind to let me wake up, but what was the worst was that I knew it was real, and I wouldn’t wake up. I’m overdramatic, I know. But that’s what it felt like. This is before the hospital incident, which occurred two days before our school’s final music night for the year, and which I have yet to write about properly.

Even looking back to the early posts of this blog, there are some moments when I’m pretty emo, or whatever you want to call it. I wouldn’t say “depressed” because I’m not comfortable with using that word in relation to myself; I don’t think I’ve ever had depression but many people and tests beg to differ. And come to think of it, I’d never use the term “emo” to describe someone else feeling like that, except if it was a joke. That, however, is neither here nor there.

We all expected there’d be setbacks, anyway. No one is happy all the time. So here’s some evidence of how much better I am – 2nd of July 2008 was the last time I hurt myself. Even with how I was feeling above, I could not, would not give in. I knew that would have made it even worse. My friends, yes, those ones, were the reason I stopped in the first place, and that, in a way, made me want to, because I didn’t have them anymore; but I knew I had to, or it would only make things worse. It’s hard to explain…

It hurts rather a lot that they were the reason I stopped and now, well, it doesn’t matter to them either way; at least, that is what I’m guessing. But it’s my fault myfault. That is what hurts most I guess. Actually, I can’t pinpoint it to one thing about it that is the worst, it’s all of it together. But that is not what this post is about.

You might not believe that I’m getting better. Sometimes I don’t believe it myself. Sometimes I feel like I’m desperately trying to keep myself together even as I am falling irreparably apart, and that even when I think I’m doing okay, I’m not really. And sure, these moments have been occurring more than usual lately, since this incident. But when I manage to work up the courage to actually get said incident sorted out and dealt with, I think I’m going to keep becoming a more positive person, or whatever the hell it is. With being happy with myself, and thus being able to be a better friend. And all that jazz.

Anyway I’m off to watch some TV, and it’s not even NCIS for a change. ;)

Love to all my blogging friends



  1. Well I am happy that you are in a better place now :) I'm sure that many people have been there (i have) and they really don't want to go back, but it is good that you are moving beyond whatever it is, and you made it through :)

  2. i remember reading that post the first time
    and i pretty much skipped over it here.
    i NEVER want to see/hear you thinking like that again

    love you xx

  3. Pattie - thanks for the comment and the encouragement (:

    Kate darling - eugh i love you so much how could i ever express it? i can't promise you i'll never go back there, but i promise i will try.