Last night into early this morning, I wrote a post about how I’m getting back on my original path, but my depression is tagging along. That post was sugar-coated. I am getting back to who I was and my depression is coming back, but I didn’t share all of it. This post will be about everything that I’m going through.
I am back in school full time, and I’m happy about that. What I’m not happy about is that I have to stay up all fucking night because someone in my house decided to adopt a fucking dog and not train it. So the only times the dog isn’t howling is at night. So now, I have gone back to my original sleep schedule so I can get my work done. But now that I’m staying up all night and sleeping all day, I’m sacrificing my time with people I care about, such as my boyfriend. So let’s move onto that point.
I have a boyfriend and he makes me happy. I love spending time with him and he makes me feel safe. Do I love him? I’m starting to fall for him, yes, but I will never fucking say those three words; every time I fall for someone, I end up falling on my face. I repress my feelings and thoughts so then when I end up alone and forgotten, I don’t hurt as much. It’s no way to live life, but that’s how it is.
Now for the reason I’m writing all of this. I literally have no one that I can truly vent to. Everyone bitches to me about every little thing that happens to them, but I get about 5 minutes until they either say they don’t want to talk about it or I end up saying something that reminds them of something that they want to bitch about. So, here I am, venting to strangers on the internet, because I can’t get an appointment with a psychiatrist and I don’t know what else to do.
I made a promise on this blog long ago to be as transparent as possible, so here’s the truth: I hate what I go through just to live, but what I’m going through isn’t truly living. I know everyone goes through this, and it’s not that big of a deal, but I literally lost my life when I moved here and now I have to fight to get it back.
Yesterday into last night, I had the talk… not the sex talk (I’m a bit too old for that). This talk was about feelings. Before I get into the bulk of it, I will tell you a story about the last time I was really confronted with my feelings and it was a bit of a horror story.
I was 12, and I was good at it. I was awkward and bitchy and just started to really hate my body. The joys of puberty! Now, I had a crush on this boy in my class for a while, and being the shy girl that I was, there was no way in hell that I was going to say anything. Eventually, it ended up coming out on the playground and my secret spread like wildfire. I was so mortified and upset that I didn’t go back to school for a few days. In my absence, things only got worse, as they do in middle school.
Fast forward to last night… I have since gotten over that day in 7th grade, but I’m still awkward and uncomfortable with talking about my feelings and will shy away. My heart was pounding and I’m pretty sure every butterfly in existence got nice and comfortable in my tummy. Writing about it now, I’m still nervous and freaking out.
Last night, I grew a pair for about 5 seconds, said how I feel the good feelings and then made the whole thing awkward and acted like a freak, as I do. I’m happy, believe me, I am, but I am a wreck because I just am. I can be loud and outgoing about the most ridiculous things, but the minute the question, “Do you like me?” is asked, I lose all sense of how to act like a human being.
Like I said, I’m happy, I just hate that I’m in a constant state of blushing and not making eye contact.
The other night started out like any other: people and drinks. A couple of shots in and we started playing truth or dare. I love the game, mostly because I’m good at it and I will take on almost any dare (within reason, of course).
We were a few rounds in and I picked truth. You asked me something very personal… well, not very personal, but it stopped me in my tracks. Anyone that knows me, knows that I’m terrible at conveying how I feel, even more so when I’m put on the spot. I lied. I lied during truth or dare.
So here’s the truth…
I didn’t love you, no, but saying that I could never love someone like you was a terrible thing to say… I never loved you, but I could have. I could have loved you, but that never happened.
I liked you, and cared about you more than I probably should have. I’m now at a point that I’m scared and my trust issues are coming back. I feel like a burden and I never want to bother you.
I’m sorry I broke the rules of truth or dare… I’m sorry that I lied. I’m sorry that I feel this need to hide how I feel, and I’m sorry that I’m broken.