I’m an oxymoron

I’m slowly destroying myself and I don’t seem to mind.

I feel liberated and constricted. Free and ashamed.


Two opposite sides of me are fighting a civil war, and I’m not sure which side I’m rooting for.

Should I stay the good girl and hide my other side like I always have, or let loose the fury and disappoint everyone who has known me?



I am a failure.

My chest is aching, my eyes hurt from crying and I have trouble breathing.

This carefully built shell is breaking, and because the inside is hollow, I’ll have nothing left.

The new life I’m working so hard on is crumbling down and I don’t have the strength to prevent it.

I can’t go through this a second time.

Loving someone unconditionally

It’s only today that I realized that loving someone unconditionally also means letting them go, instead of desperately clinging onto something that once was, poisoning yourself and the bond with them in the process. It’s a love that’s meant to be airy and embracing, not heavy and suffocating.
Today I also finally realized that you cannot burden someone with the task of filling the void you are feeling. Nor should you be the one who has to lose a part of yourself in order to make the other feel better. Love should complement, not complete.
Loving unconditionally is coming to the conclusion that you love, and you will continue to love, even when that love isn’t mutual. It’s when wishing for happiness for yourself and the other overcomes the hurt and spite.

I hope I’ll be able to love you unconditionally.

I’m working on it.


Rain on my cheeks

I was feeling better this morning. Sure, I still had that throbbing sense of sadness in my chest, but it seemed like the thunder cloud above my head coloured one shade less grey.
This afternoon I even went for an ice-cream with my mom. I couldn’t bear watching her torment herself about the possible causes of my depression anymore, so I confessed everything (okay, so it did involve some sugarcoating) while idly stirring the remainder of my melting sundae. She took it quite well, or at least, I felt she was relieved she could finally stick a label on the possible roots of my issues.
Despite the semi-panic attack at the parlour, I genuinely enjoyed being outdoors for a bit, and even opted to watch a movie with her this evening.

I’m guessing someone out there felt my cloud was being too bright for this time of year.

My mind became aware of the fact that I am not ranked high on anyone’s list.

A little past 1h30 a.m., while participating in the usual screen-staring, a sudden tsunami of intense sadness/hopelessness/loneliness washed over me. Reason: my mind became aware of the fact that I am not ranked high on anyone’s list of importance. Sure, I have a few friends and colleague-friends I occasionally interact with, but when push comes to shove, I am not one of their concerns; I am simply convenient at times. But the real smack in the face was the realization that the person whom I consider a confidant and good friend (even post-break up) – a “false support”, my therapist calls it – made me feel like I was/am entertaining as long as no one better’s around.

And so I started crying, no, weeping, uncontrollably for about an hour. For the past two weeks the urge to cry had been blocked by the anti-depressants, but this time the feeling was so overwhelming that I couldn’t stop sobbing, even after I ran out of tears, curling up in a ball until my pillow was damp and my abdominal muscles were aching.

It’s about 4 a.m. right now. I’ve calmed down, but my overthinking brain is still taunting me. I keep thinking that for once I just want someone I deeply care for to say that they miss me, or that they care about me. I just need a hug and a reassurance that everything’s going to be fine. That I’m worth it and that I -am- important to them. For once, let that person make me feel special; I don’t care if it’s just make-belief.
Because right now, I just feel like pulling the covers over my head and never attempt getting up again.

And the overthinking continues

Last week has been a waste of time, literally. I did nothing but sleep, or drowsily stare at whatever random tv show that was playing. I couldn’t eat, read, listen to music, draw, play games, whatever; I literally just camped in my bed. I blocked all my friends on Facebook, shut off Steam, and didn’t reply to any message on my phone. On Thursday and Saturday I grudgingly met two friends (one, I shamefully admit, partly because I was hoping to see M. – I know, I fail), which caused a backlash that lasted twice as long as usual, leaving me “near comatose” hiding under a blanket for the next two days.

Today I’m feeling slightly more “energetic” – meaning I was able to stay out of bed for more than 5 minutes (hurray!) – but I’m not sure if I should call it an improvement.
Sure, I managed to take a bath -and- clean up the pile of laundry I’d been collecting for over three weeks now, plus I’m getting more of an appetite (not that I would mind losing a few more pounds – that’s been the only positive thing about this whole train wreck). But at the same time I’m getting more restless, and my mind is back in overdrive, like 100 tv channels playing at once. A splitting headache is slowly creeping up on me, as well as the all-consuming dreadful sad and hopeless feeling crushing down my chest. It’s day 10 of my anti-depressants, so I’m not sure if this is a normal phase I’m going through, but I’m not ready to give up that comforting numbness yet.

My place is an absolute mess. It’s like a tornado passed by and dumped all debris of your local junkyard inside. I think I have about 20 half-empty soda cans on both sides of my bed, graciously accompanied by stacks of plates where new life forms might start developing soon. My plants haven’t seen a drop of water in over 3 weeks, and the layers of dust covering one another make the shelves of my dark wooden closet resemble a winter landscape. It’s frustrating how I notice it all, yet I cannot force myself to simply get up and take care of simple household chores.

A few days ago I wrote (= forced myself to write) an email to the administrative department of my main job, asking them to switch my contract to my former part-time one (I loathe having to make phone calls, therefore I email as much as I can :P). So far I haven’t had a reply yet, but I really hope they’ll accept my request. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to handle going back to work in less than two weeks. We’ll see.
As for my second job (the cookie decorating/food truck biz) I had to deny any new orders until April; I simply cannot find any strength nor motivation nor inspiration to do any baking, let alone any creative stuff. I still need to make a statement on our website about it. Ugh.

Two days ago I dreamed about my grandma; it had been quite awhile, but I guess raking up the ol’ grandma story (to be told later) at the psychologist’s and then overthinking the entire conversation may have had something to do with it. As usual, she was aggressive, and as usual, I woke up feeling like a whirlwind of anger, frustration, hurt, sadness, confusion, and my jaw hurt from gnashing my teeth. I just can’t seem to dream about her the way I knew her before all those things happened.

And then, of course, now that I’m feeling less numb and detached from any emotions, I started thinking about M. again. I’m conflicted between what my rational mind is trying to convince me and what my heart is still clinging onto. But hey, at least a week past by without me trying to talk to him (minus Thursday, where I sent him a text asking if he was maybe also interesting in coming for a drink. Yeah, yeah, I know….) plus my rational side is slowly waking up from its slumber, so I guess that’s a start? Maybe?