Through the Looking-Glass

Randoms thoughts…

As usual tonight, my head is full of questions without answers, and I am arguing with that part of myself who spends her time trying to bring me down, trying to kill me slowly. You know, that voice who whispers that you are fat, worthless, good for nothing, that voice who whispers that you cannot be happy, no girl, not today, not tomorrow, never. That voice, she locks me up into my sadness and obsessive thoughts. That voice alienates me. Everything I perceive, everything I remember, everything I love, everything I learn is automatically ruined, wasted, tingued with pain and hate. Like a black and white filter. 

And here again, these 2 voices cannot shut the fuck up and I am sitting on my bed, looking like an idiot. 

I am wondering why do I think it is wrong to love oneself, why do I think it is a form of pretentiousness, why cannot I just be kind to myself ? Why cannot I just do it ? Everytime I try, the other voice is here, and reminds me that I am fucking disgusting and selfish. Everytime, I just feel the urge to cut. 

I am wondering why I cannot say I am not fine. I mean, not write it, but actually say it. Say I need help, I need support, I need a human presence. Why do the words stay in my head (when I find them…) ? Everything is so confused. I am acting like I don’t give a fuck and everyone thinks I have no feelings at all even though I am anxious and sad. I don’t know how to be authentic with others. I only know how to pretend and lie. 

I try to understand myself. I try to understand what is happening in my mind when I want to binge. I try to understand why do I want to be so scrawny, why do I want to cut, why do I hate this body so much ? And the more I damage it, the more I hate it. It’s a vircious circle. It never ends. 

Well, that’s done, I am terribly annoyed myself with these thoughts. The final question could be “why can’t I just shut up and be a normal girl ?”.

I am sorry, this post is nonsense. 

That’s why I cannot watch or read the news.

Everyone in the whole world is talking about these poor women from Cleveland, who were raped and tortured during ten years by a fucking psychopath. 

And I am just here, being depressed, anxious and shit, having an eating disorder, cutting myself. I am totally self centred. 

Seriously, I do not deserve to live. I disgust myself. 

I miss these days when I was a child, and my grandma told me stories before going to bed.

I miss these days when, even if my parents fought almost everyday, I had hope. I was sure that one day, everything will be fine and ok. Because everything ends, even the bad moments.

I miss these days when I could really feel something. Not anxiety, not sadness and all the bad emotions in the world. Feel like I’m alive. Feel like I’m in peace with myself. Feel like if life was worth living.

I guess I was wrong. I was just a child. 

Now my grandma is afraid of dying and become embittered. My grandpa is no more talkative.

Now the parents of my mother are died, my grandpa killed my grandma with his rifle and then, shot himself. 

Now my parents are divorced for 7 years. 

Now my mom and my step father hate each other.

Now I’m like the mom of my 6 years old step brother and the mom of my own mother.

Now my father is alone. 

Now my sister and brother are tired of all these bullshits. 

Now I’m 22, few friends, never had a serious boyfriend.

Now I hate men for what one did to me. 

Now I have an eating disorder. I cut myself. I’m sad, hopeless, guilt, exhausted. I take to much pills to sleep. To feel nothing.  

Now it’s been 6 years that I undergo psychotherapy. Still feeling that I annoy everyone. I’m pathetic, ridiculous. I’ll be mentally sick for the rest of my life. 

Now it’s like the memories of my childhood are fakes. 

Now I know I was wrong. 

Just another wasted day. Just another day feeling sad and shit. Just another day with myself, fucking up everything.

Blah blah blah blah blah. 

Murder me. 

They say life is too short. Well, when you hate yourself, life is really too long.

Time is an anvil. Time crushes me. 

Just another night, thinking that I should have died when I was that new born with a septicemia. I wouldn’t be a waste of time, a waste of space, that shitty daughter, friend, sister. Fuck, I don’t want to see my psychiatrist anymore, it’s useless, I feel worse than ever.

I am such a fucking idiot and it’s all my fault.

The past last weeks have shown me that I’m the eternal everyone’s second choice.

I’m tired of these people who are claiming to be my friends when they only talk to me or care about me just because they need help or informations.

So, I decided to be not a choice at all. They won’t hear about me anymore.  

Mirror, Mirror, on my wall, I want to be pretty, thin, and tall. Mirror, Mirror, if I change my hair, Maybe then someone will start to care? Mirror, Mirror, if I starve myself, At least I’ll be beautiful. Forget my health. Mirror, Mirror, if I cut my wrist, Will I finally feel like I exist? Mirror, Mirror, don’t you see? What you show is ruining me.

(Source: dreams-are-like-angles, via dreams-are-like-angles)