Why am I back here? If there is one thing I've learned about myself, it's that I only write when something is eating away at my insides. It's kind of like those Anna Nalick lyrics "If I get it all down of paper, it's no longer inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to." My own thoughts are killing me. It's such a painful death, too. The pain comes in these giant waves, and I can never see right before they crash over me.
I spent the majority of my day trying to study, and then crying into my textbooks every time I remembered that I didn't want to be here. I don't want this. I don't want to go to college. I never wanted to go to college. I wanted to go to trade school, but I let my parents talk me out of it. I'm glad that they did, but that doesn't mean I should have gone to college instead. I'm not blaming my parents for anything. Or trying to make excuses. I'm just angry. I spent so much time the past two semesters struggling to do my work. It wasn't that the work was hard, it was that I couldn't find the willpower to do the work. I know that sometimes we have to put on our big girl (or boy) pants, and do things that we don't want to do in life. I don't want to get up at 4/5am for work, but I do because that's life. But there is something about college that is just different for me. There is this constant feeling of worthlessness and being a failure. Add a whole lot of depression and an eating disorder on top of that, and I'd say I'm just a big giant mess right now.
People tell me I have this really great support system. I disagree with that. The thing about support systems is that they have to support your decisions, and give you advice. Above all, they need to have your happiness and mental stability in mind at all times when helping you. That's not the case when it comes to my so-called "support system." Most people just tell me that I should finish school, that I should keep going and that it'll all be worth it in the end. They might be right, but what about right now? What about all these days I spend sitting in my room crying my eyes out over the thought of doing school work? Or over the thought of being stuck in this place another 2-3 years? I thought things were getting better, I thought it was starting to be okay. Turns out I was wrong about that. I was right about what I said before I moved down here, though. I think if I stay down here I might hurt myself. I don't know how. Maybe I'll start losing weight again. Maybe I'll start drinking again. Maybe I'll just let the depression wash over me. Who knows. But I know that being alone with my thoughts is really toxic.
I tried to compartmentalize and look what happened. It all just came and hit me. It hit me at a time when I really should be compartmentalizing. What the hell happened to me? I used to be so good at pushing it all down. I used to hide it so well. I think I stopped having a release for it all. I stopped writing, stopped drawing, stopped getting super fucked up on the weekends. I miss it sometimes. I miss taking enough pills to forget the pain.
He makes me not want to do that stuff, though. He makes me feel okay. But he isn't always there when I need him. And those days are the hardest ones. I know I can't rely on him like that, I learned that the hard way. I learned that lesson long before I met him, I just seemed to have forgotten. When I'm hyperventilating and crying and he doesn't answer my calls all day.. it takes me back to the night I called that suicide hotline. I felt so alone. I had called all of my friends and none of them answered. I feel like such a pathetic loser, reaching out, grasping for someone to save me.. and then nobody ever grabs my hand. So I just fall.. and I drown. I keep drowning. I'm still drowning. I'm not sure if that feeling will ever go away. It seems to just keep coming back.
