Shaved off my hair. Was timed to match my surgery but was done for a zillion reasons other than the surgery. Want to get rid of everything I possibly can from my past. Want a fresh start this coming year.
Want to start without the inhibitions, doubts, questions, anything I had earlier. Try things with an open mind. Things can’t get worse than this year’s been, right?
The fears that always held me back… Here’s to breaking them.
Conventional. Unconventional. Married. Divorced. Tall. Short. Slim. Fat. Pretty. Smart. Stupid. Ugly. Bipolar. Girl. Indian. Dark. Fair. Educated. Rich. Poor. Whore. Slut. Rebel… Here’s to a tagless, happier, unbranded 2018!!
I so have to get over him. How but? What should I do?
Empty wrappers in my hand
One a day saves my life
Together, they will end my strife.
Hang in there. Help is on its way, they say.
Please! Who will keep me from myself away?
Breathe. Go slow. Take it day by day.
Cuts and bruises on my arm
Please wake me up from this nightmare, dear alarm
Or send me as well, to that far away farm.
Be a fucking adult!!! If you are hungry… Get up and go get food. Now!
“Even I have a problem talking to people. But I don’t have a choice, so I just buck up and do it.” She said.
Am I not ‘bucking up’ and doing things because I have the convenient excuse of being unwell? Many people tend to use their condition as an excuse to not do enough… My psychiatrist told me. Am I one of those many people?
Humans by nature are survivors, right? So if left to my own devices, wouldn’t I figure some way out to survive? Why then am I depending on my family again? Is it because I have the option to? Would I be better off without the option then?
To be or not to be. 🙂
I deserve better, he said.
But don’t you love me, I pleaded
Maybe. But what do I get? He asked
Me. I wanted to say. But if I’m not good enough… Then what good does that do, right?
Will I ever be good enough? Won’t everyone deserve better? Better than a bipolar, emotional, dysfunctional mess that I am.
It didn’t matter that he pushed me emotionally to deal with my baggage till I broke. Didn’t matter that after coping with all that and my sexual abuse alone, I returned to Bangalore and him in Jan to start living when shit hit the roof. Pregnancy. Abortion. Cat died. Best friend died. Uncle died. Doesn’t matter. Without meds or therapy I crashed and went into silence. And that’s it. He had enough. He deserves better.
What about me? What do I deserve?
What do I do to keep myself from killing myself? I asked for help. Told everyone I know I want help. I went to a psychiatrist. Have an appointment with a psychologist for next week. I’m back on meds but the depression isn’t going. I want it to go. Please make it go. I don’t want to die. But I will kill myself. Can somebody help me? Please. What can I do? My boy friend broke up with me. So I don’t have him either to call. But he knows. Everyone in my life knows that I’m asking for help. I look normal or noone is taking it seriously I think. I’m going mad. Please help.