What a rollercoaster this last week has been. Every possible emotion a human can feel has consumed me in the last few days. I was feeling bitter and was emprisoning myself with everything concerning the past. Acting like I could cope and everything was fine.
My past came back to haunt me a few times. First there was the though decision I needed to make concerning my husband. Letting go of someone you wanted to spend your life with is the hardest thing I will ever do. No words can describe the kind of scar this will leave behind. For a lot of people my marriage was a joke to begin with. Too fast, too furiously I loved him, and somewhere still do. But I can’t fight for a relationship that in the end almost made me drown myself. I just cannot.
Secondly there was troubles inside the new social circle I’ve been in. Not going deeper into it but I truly felt I made a mess and caused all the troubles that were there.
Thirdly my best friend still doesn’t seem to recognise what he has done wrong, and I miss him more than he knows. But some things I just can’t forgive just yet.
And fourthly the memories of parties and friends long gone came back to me when I was standing there on Thunderdome. I thought I wouldn’t belong there anymore, but it was like coming home after a long dark night. No words could describe the way I felt right there and then.
I useably think soo poorly of myself, trying to find strength in other people. I didn’t , and sometimes still can’t see the good things in myself. For me I failed in life. I especially failed myself. And this has too stop. The only one who can decide if this life is worth living and can make it worth living is me. And only me.
So I recognise, I’m egocentric, I’m energetic, I’m annoying, I’m loud and I make wrong decisions. But I need to go through this. I really need to start recognising myself for the beautiful mess I am. It’s like Kesha says, this kittycat has lost her mind and my heads fucked up. But I will be all right.
Because through this all I’ve met some new people, who I thought didn’t care about me. But yesterday on one of the roughest day’s I’ve had since my suicide attempt, I was deeply moved. And they probably didn’t even know it. This fucked up mind of me was thinking once again, what’s the point of it all again? Everybody will eventually just hate me and leave me. All dark and gloomy again, not at all the fighter I usually am. Everything was going south, but instead of running away , I talked to them. And you know what.. There are still people in this world who care… There are people who are willing to listen to you, to give you a hug when you need one, to try and make you laugh. There are people that even when you open up your heart and show your most exposed side to them, still care enough to keep making you laugh. And there are people who don’t judge. Without them I really wouldn’t be here anymore. Because otherwise I would be almost on my own, I wouldn’t go outside, and I would not go and try to find the old eccentric and silly me again. I would just perish away and make myself a prisoner of myself again. I tried to tell them a few times. But I don’t think it gets through to them. So I hope some of them will read this screwed up mess and homely find some sort of pride and warmth in knowing that without their beautiful screwed up personalities, I would not see the beautiful colours in the world anymore. Their friendship keeps the crazy thoughts out, and makes me feel stronger. Thank you for making me feel like I’m a person who’s ‘fun’ being around. Thank you!
I think it’s time to learn and let go, and keep on connecting and enjoying the beautiful thing that is called life. Because eventually only life can be the death of me.