Here we are. Tired. Exhausted. Numb.
I was on a run a few days ago. And I thought: “If I jump in front of this tram, all of this shit would finally be over”.
Welcome to my world.
I am so fucking tired.
The smallest things demand so much energy. I prefer ordering food because going to the store and buying groceries is so fucking tiresome. Many days I can’t find the energy to do so and even if I do, every minute I’m out there, I wish I would be home in my little cave again. Everything I touch burns to ashes. It’s only a matter of time.
I have no goal, no plan, no compass, no path forward.
I just want to be done with it all.
I am so fucking tired.
People around me are flourishing. Achieving their goals, moving forward.
I’m stuck inside my head.
The same shit year after year.
If running away from yourself was an art, I’d be a master of its craft. But nobody can run forever.
I try so fucking hard to pretend.
I’m fine.
I can go on.
I’m over it
I can move forward.
I’m lying to myself again and again.
I’m not fine.
I can’t go on.
I’m not over it.
I’ can’t move forward.
I’m stuck in the past. Inside my head. Too many unanswered questions, too much pain.
Every single time someone asks me how I feel I just want to scream. And cry. And scream. And cry.
But usually I maintain a neutral stance. I’m alright. I’m not. How about you? I want to break down right here, right now, but I don’t want to embarrass you.
It’s so fucking exhausting.
I want to scream and cry but nobody is going to hear me anyway.
I try to tell myself that it will get better. But lying to myself is an art. I really thought it would. I take punch after punch after punch and I keep telling myself that I’ll be fine.
In reality I just want everything to be over.
It hurts so fucking much. I keep pushing the pain away. But all I want is to fall down on my floor and scream and cry. Let it all out.
I am on a road of self-destruction. I treat my body like shit. Numb the pain with whatever is available.
I have no idea what to do. I just want to be done. Finished.
I had a shitty run, might as well be done with it rather sooner than later.
Fucking empathy.
People I care about.
Don’t want to hurt them.
Now I’m stuck in a limbo.
Can’t move forward, can’t go back, can’t end it.
What to do?
No idea.
Great.
Maybe one day things will be different. My brain will be less fucked up. Alas, I don’t believe in miracles.
I still want to jump in front of the next train. Even though I know it’s a bad idea.
Been a few years since I had these thoughts. Pretty good at lying to myself.
Thanks to you and you and you and you and you and you for treating me like shit. I pour my heart and soul out into the world and all I get is fucking misery. I try to be open, to be vulnerable, to be emotional available.
Hiphip hourah.
Whenever I did that, people started running. Sorry, that I’m not able to give you another feel-good story like your Instagram feed. I don’t want to pretend. I don’t want to project. I want raw and honest interactions. With all its beauty and terror. I want to feel your pain as well as your joy and vice versa.
Pretty hard to do if you run away the moment things get difficult.
I’m not fine.
I don’t want to pretend anymore. I want to cry and scream as if there is no tomorrow.
I’m so fucking exhausted.
Keeping up this charade is not something I ever wanted to do.
Give me a fucking break.
I smile when I want to cry.
I laugh when I want to scream.
I move forward when I want to take a knife and cut the skin of my chest until I faint from blood loss.
Welcome to my world.
What now?
No idea.
Sleep until the next day.
Same shit as before.
I’m at the ferry station waiting for Charon to take me across the river.
Eternal darkness is all I’m yearning.
One day my time will come.
Death is salvation.
Egotheist 