for me
I am writing this for me. I dont really think anyone reads this anymore, so my thoughts should be safe. Now to even find the words. I have so disconnected myself from myself that I am not sure I can.
I wish I was dead. It has been over a year now, since I started feeling this way. It has been this downward spiral for me, a death in several acts that has culminated in this nothing I have become. I stopped writing. I stopped painting. I stopped talking. I think I gave up. I have systematically exczed every part of my life that shed light upon my true self, and took up the mask of pretense. Its so much easier to pretend to be happy. So, as I was saying, I think I gave up. It was a slow revelation, the discovery that I am unknown. By those who are supposed to know me, to care, I am a stranger. They dont have an inkling of this thing that swallowed me, and even more dismal, they dont care. Like flashing lights, I have given signs. I have cried for help. But no one listens. It is inconvenient, for me, the doer, the maker, the giver, to be less than perfect. it complicates things for people, to have to worry about me. I suppose its just too much trouble… Just take take take take take take take take take take take, and if the well runs dry, scream at the well. Degrade the well for its insolence, and inconsiderate emptiness. How dare it interfere with the everyday happenings of everyone else who is so much more important? for so long, your cup overran with the gifts of this spring. Even when it ran dry of water and began running blood, it continued to give selflessly. gradually all things peripheral to giving fell away, turning it into your fountain for the taking. How blind you are that the cool liquid you consumed so gluttonously turned crimson and you were oblivious. Oblivious to my pain. To my need. Worse even, you know. You alll know that a disease has caught me in its trap. This blackness eats at my soul, and i feel as if I am a dried out husk, turning to dust.
So many times, I cried out. And a deaf ignorant ear was all I was turned. I cried louder, and was abused and belittled. Attacked for having feelings, I decided to hide. Maybe if i ignored the way i felt, it would fade. Maybe if i concentrated on something else, the future perhaps, I would be encouraged. But I feel as if i have no future. I feel as if this is my fate, to be a shadow of myself. I dont even know how to climb out anymore. All of those things that I tried to look forward to are so impossible alone. And I am so alone. I am so full of emptiness that I think if i tried to cry, i would shatter. I have never been so lonely. And all it ever does is get worse. Everything I try to do blows up in my face, and i dont even know how to try to assemble myself anymore.
I dont see hope anymore. I wish I did, and for so long, I have tried to recpture it. I have prayed. I have prayed so much, abandoning my fear of god. But I dont think even god can touch me anymore. If, perchance, you tried to ask me what the matter was, I dont even think i could explain. Its so laughable, she storms about and remarks, "what the hell is the matter with YOU???" I am so divorced from myself, that i can almost laugh. She is so talented, that she belittles my feelings before i would even be able to tell her. As if, no matter what is actually wrong is so rediculous that there isnt even a point in finding out what it is. Well, thats fine. maybe, when I am gone, and no one mapquests your directions for you, or rubs your feet, or cooks your dinner (none of which are ever good enough, i might add) maybe you will realize that all i have to give was worth something after all.
See, thats the crux of all of these words. I am completely worthless, and in death i at least have the possibility of being missed. Going to my funeral, finally they will have to think about me. Invisible, useable, malleable, disposable me.
I would say I hate myself, but I dont even know myself enough to make that judgement anymore.
God, someone, help me. Please help me. I dont want to die. I dont want to leave my children. I want to be the me that I know I can. I just dont know how to. I dont know how to go on. I need help.