Uncomfortable

I woke up one day and decided that I was in love with you and that was that. He once said to me during a drunken argument. I thought we were people who were straight up with each other. I don't remember much from those nights where you filled my blood with alcohol to love me but I'm no longer sure if you meant those words or not.

I try to ask you numerous times but doesn't seem like I can get a straight answer from you. I ask my friends for advice and they said I'm just your side bitch because you can't commit. You play your words and I fall for them. So why am I still around. "Cause you're bored or lonely".

Am I becoming that predictable? 

___________________________

I'm sorry I made you fall in love with me. I thought I liked you too until I realise that we were too similar.  I just don't believe having two mentally ill people in a relationship is a good idea. We're both liabilities to each other. I can't fix you. I'm not as "together" as you think I am. You're just not something I want in life. If you can't accept that then you're going to be stuck in limbo.

Eden

I've become reckless. These days I can't seem to look at anybody in the face unless they're the disposable kind. It's so wrong to say but I suppose it's acceptable in our modern day to sleep around and never speak a word to them again. I've become almost dependant on meeting strangers and having to be constantly drunk to have a connection with somebody.

I can't ruin things. I'll move onto the next thing. No responsibility. No strings attached. Casual. Subtle terms we enjoy using because it sounds less hurtful for the other person. We all know what we're doing. It's not the best way with dealing with things but it's better than getting drunk alone and trying to fall asleep without waking up in a hospital. 

I haven't become more social or more outgoing as people think. They like me more like this. But even I can't deny knowing that I'm ruining myself just to feel slightly okay for maybe 20 minutes. That faux intimacy, those vacant cuddles and then being able to walk around with the mindset that you didn't need any of that but lord, did it make you feel better about yourself.

I can't say I hate it though. Not completely. 

 

Someone New

I'm in a odd place where I'm still depressed as ever but I use other people as a pick me up. This is a very bad way of coping because it's not always going to work and it's very unstructured. I'm in a strange place now due to this one boy. Sweet as apple pie but fragile as a glass house. I like to think I can save him. Deep down I know that's not true but it makes me feel like I've got a purpose.

Nothing but skin and bones he is. He's crude but oh so precious. In the way where you want to help a baby bird with broken wings. He's not mine. I don't want him to be but to meet somebody like me is very curious. His anxiety is no match for anything. Appears confidence but is a text book example for depression. I know what I'm doing.

I'm getting myself involved in something that I have no right to. He is not my friend. I don't know him but darn it. I know what it feels like. My fear of somebody going through that is bigger than the damage it's going to do in return. I can only feel complete knowing that there's somebody out there that needs me. Even if it's just a little bit. 

I know this won't work because you're not even standing on your own two feet. How can we both lay on the ground and not move. That's not living. That's sad. 

Cold

pt.2 A week later and my urges are still as strong. My knuckles are starting to heal and I continue to tell myself that it wasn't self harm because I won't let myself go there again but I'm finding other outlets. I'm becoming more reserved but not enough for anybody to think I'm dissociating. I started to drink, but I keep telling them it's the holidays as an excuse to continue. I haven't been sober in three days.

I'm going out tomorrow with friends and most likely put another few drinks in my system. I have complete control. I know that. But nothing is satisfying my urges to be destructive. They're different than just drawing a blade over your skin. It's a process. It's long and depressing. 

It's been a while since I've looked in the mirror. Every time I have a glance I'm filled with hatred and anger. What a strange feeling to be disgusted with one's self. I thought I was over this. Apparently not. They did warn me that this is something that is going to walk with me through life. How much longer can I deal? I continue to make scenarios in my head. Days like these makes it horrible to be me.