I realized that I talk to myself and think to myself a lot in second person.
My boyfriend came over today, I really didn't want him to though. I didn't have the heart to say no since he's been wanting to hang out for so long, and I just have either been busy or made excuses not to see him. I don't know why. But, during the entire hangout in my house, he was touchy and clingy as always. He was supposed to come over to watch a show with me and work on his painting, but he refused to work on his painting saying that he wanted to hang out and talk with me instead. He wanted to make out, and I said okay at first. Though, it took everything in me to say no. My voice even broke when I spoke, I felt so embarassed. When he hugged me, telling me he just wanted me to be comfortable with him, I could only think about how much I was hurting him. My thoughts repeated "you're hurting him, you're hurting him, and he doesn't even know."
The entire. time. I didn't feel anything. I just felt uncomfortable. He would hug me at random times, and I didn't have the heart to pull him off. I can't even get myself to say "I love you" back. It feels like something I'm unable to say in a serious sense. I feel horrible.
It feels like I've lost all ability to feel love. I forgot what love feels like, how it looks like. Or, did I ever really know before?
The only time I feel like I can recognize love is two times. The first, 8th grade. I had a panic attack in the bathrooms during lunch, and scratched my hands until it left two identical marks. One on my left hand, one on my right. It kinda looks like scars from if I was crucified. I went to my next period where I had J in my class. Again, we bonded over our issues. But, when she saw my hands—she gently took them, took out two bandages, and just gently put them over my wounds. I think about that so much, and she doesn't even know. The second, last year. I live in a sub-urban city. It's not easy to see stars out. For the longest time, I didn't even know I could be able to see a few stars. But, one time when my parents were travelling, I snuck A into my home. We sat outside in my backyard, on my old playground that my parents had bought me. We stared up to the sky, and I talked about the stars. And, A pointed the stars we were able to see in our city. I never looked at the night sky the same again.
Why can't I feel this again? Why do I not remember how it used to feel? I try to tell myself I'm really not too bad, but I feel like I'm truly a hypocrite. I keep isolating myself from the people that love me, that seem to care, that are attached. I can't bring myself to even talk to them. I feel disgusted with myself, and the world around me.
I had cut my hair two days ago. I went back to my boy-cut, kind of like a overgrown pixie cut, but a bit fluffy. I have that kind of wavy/curly volumized hair type. I felt better, but it wasn't enough. I tried to drink a day or two before. But, the taste of strong wine was too harsh for me. I started feeling more sick, and it felt like I was drinking acid. Even my determination couldn't make me finish over a fourth of the small bottle. I need a cigarrette, anything to keep my anxiety down. I don't feel anything, yet I also feel on edge so much. Not all the time, but sometimes. Oh, but hey, I started crying when I was writing about the two times I have felt love. I guess I'm not all that numb to my emotions. I still feel dirty after having M be all over me. I miss J. I miss N. I miss my best friends. I think I just need something platonic, but I'm scared I'll push away again. I want to be in the company of someone like that. I don't want to be touched, I should have asked him to stop touching me. But then, that would turn into a loop of him asking if he's done anything wrong. I understand where he's coming from, but it fills me with irritation even if I can't control it. My avoidance is turning into resentment faster than I had expected. I wonder if I can turn back from how I feel about M. I screwed up. I knew I shouldn't have gotten into another relationship. I'm hurting the ones I love, again.
I haven't even felt like a person at all, actually. I feel like I've stated this before, but I can't recognize my own face, or my own voice. Not even my own personlity fits. I'm assuming this is depersonalization or dehumanization or simply my mind playing tricks on me simply because it can. Isn't this so evil? Or am I the evil one? I know God isn't real. He would have stepped in. I felt terrified typing that. I feel like he's watching me, knowing that I can't get myself to truly believe in him. No matter how many rosaries I'll pray. I can't believe in him. Not after I cried to him, begging him to make my sister stop or to make me feel something else, or crying to him to just kill me at ten years old. I feel so old, I feel like I've truly wasted my teenage life away. Is this normal? Is what I've gone through really not that big of a deal, nor is it noteworthy at all? I'm dwelling on the past again, sorry. I wish I was the only human on earth sometimes. Then, I'd feel safe. I'd have animals to keep me company, and ants to resent instead of people. I don't like ants, they get everywhere and they make me feel gross. But, I feel guilt after killing any kind of bug. It's normalized now, yeah, but I always scoop up spiders into cups and toss them outside instead of killing them. I genuinely feel like a murderer after killing bugs, even if everyone tells me it's not that serious. This doesn't make any sense, does it? Why am I talking about bugs instead of something that is driving me to the brink of suicide? I'm being really silly. Maybe I'm just trying to map out my morals and personality again. It's not helping. I wish I knew you, reader. You know me better than anyone else. As scary as that is, you don't really know me either.
I made a strawpage. If there's anyone real out there reading this, please take the time to say hi, it'll make me feel better that there is someone reading this and acknowledging me. Thank you
My anon strawpage