Today was not a nice one. I felt well, but I spent the day sobbing.
Mourning an old life.
Mourning the life I’ve missed.
Mourning my future.
I am now stuck in my childhood home. Unable to work. All plans on hold. Friends living wonderful lives – and so they should. No one for me to share it all with. No one who gets it. No one who seems to be able to handle it. No one to whisper that it will be alright as I cry in the early hours. No room for me to breathe.
No willingness to produce anything of worth.
I didn’t have the energy to do anything I wanted to get done today. I didn’t have the heart to tell some people that they’d hurt me, rather than helped. I didn’t have the motivation to get dressed. I didn’t care about what some people had to say. I don’t think it’s fair to be unintentionally reminded of how alone I am, but it’s no one’s fault. I got upset over a past life. I ate marzipan out of the packet. I had a two hour bath and pretended I wasn’t ill. I sat in silence and tried to shut down my million thoughts. I sat and thought about an old flame – several, in fact. I rolled my eyes when I looked in the mirror. I regretted my college years. I didn’t leave the house, again.
I am angry. I am tired. I am scared.
I got jealous of people I shouldn’t be jealous of. I got pissed off at people who can’t help but not understand. I’ve locked myself away so I can’t be disturbed. I’ve wished bad things on people and then immediately revoked them.
I feel sad. I feel unhappy. I am a mess.
Still, no one to share it with.
I am so lucky, but I feel so fucking unlucky.
Tomorrow we shall start again.