I would give anything for a pain pill right about now, speaking both physically and
metaphorically… the pain is just too great.
I feel the heaviest weight on me; it is not easy to explain how it feels to have your life in front of you and you cannot push through or even see through to arrive at another day.
One might observe my life and wonder what on earth I have to be depressed about, my casualties could be so much worse. But I suppose that is all relative considering each person holds their own level of tolerance.
Indeed that is true, which makes it even harder to endure because I want
to reach down inside myself and scream “What is wrong with you?
There is nothing to be in turmoil about, you are a blessed woman, now act like it!”
There is a tape that keeps playing in my head. I hate my life. Over and over. I hate myself. Over and over.
The screaming in my head just will not cease.
I want to pull the covers over my head until there is no light coming through. There is definitely no light in my heart.
Every once in a while I turn on my computer
with some glimmer of hope that my dreams might come true. Subsequently, my past blocks the opening.
I feel broken and shut down. How can something that is no longer happening take precedence over the present and future?
Just because I used to be a junkie and a thief doesn’t
make me unable to have a future helping other junkies and thieves, who most likely really need to hear what I have to say.
It is possible now to be accredited academically and have little
or no common sense while proceeding to be a police officer, a probation officer, a victim’s advocate. This frustrates me.
I want to be all of these people because I don’t want to be me. I’m not even sure I know me.
People say I’m beautiful. I don’t see it. People tell me I’m smart. I don’t feel it.
The battle is in my mind. Part of me wants to go the gym and be pretty and healthy.
The other part of me wants to drink and pop pills. I can’t decide. Actually I can. I want to be healthy, but it’s just so hard to get there…I can see it, but it’s so far away.
The common denominator is false on both sides. I want to appear perfect on the outside as to somehow create an illusion of happiness, because I do smile when I feel pretty. Don’t we all?
However, being numb from intoxication is also an illusion because I can choose to no longer feel all of this.
So the bottom line is that I just can’t sit here and be content with myself.
I know it comes from the inside, but how do I fix my insides when I’m sick. So what do I do? Numb my insides or fix my outsides? I feel paralyzed and alone.
Why does self destruction sound so good, so intriguing?
The goal is not to be perfect, it is to be whole.