Obviously, I’ve not written in quite some time. Since April. And before then was another long stretch. Oddly enough it’s not because nothing is happening, quite the opposite. Everything is happening. I lost the person I love, I lost my job, I lost friends and quite frankly, I’ve lost faith. I have nothing. In these past few months I’ve had to face being stripped of everything and really I’m not doing a good job at it.
I’m very tired. Physically, I’m so exhausted, literally just sleepy. But every time I close my eyes my brain takes off like it’s on a race track (honestly it’s the only reason I’m writing now instead of sleeping, because my brain won’t allow it). Every few nights or so my brain turns to me - like Forrest Gump turned to his followers - and says I’m tired. It shuts down and allows me some rest. But for the most part I can go days on very little sleep and very little food. I’m constantly closing my eyes in hopes that I might doze off but in reality it just serves as a playground for my brain. I close my eyes and block out all the distractions only so my thoughts don’t escape through my eyes. I take a nighttime cold medicine to help induce sleep and couple it with an antihistamine with sedative properties and the best I get is maybe 4 hours. Some days it’s really all I can do to not drink the entire bottle or swallow the entire box. Some days I wish I did. Every day I wish I didn’t wake up.
But anyway, the morbidity of my life is really inconsequential to the fact that I’ve not been trying to keep up with this. I picked up my phone one day and looked at it and saw the app (on the Home Screen at that) and had realized that I’d completely forgotten that it existed. I literally forgot the app and the blog despite it being in my direct visual path. I want to go on about how heavy it’s been hitting me how my family uses me and takes advantage of me at any chance they get. I want to go on about the injustice of my boss letting us go on a whim. I even want to go on about the friends that have and haven’t shown up for me in this time. But I can’t. I try. I really do.
…I’ve been trying to write this one line for over an hour now and I can’t seem to get it right. I lost the one person that meant everything to me (and it’s not like it’s new, not like they just left me…it’s been a while now). I legitimately cease to function when I start to think about him. I hate writing about him because I don’t want to betray him in some way. But if I’m being honest with myself that’s where it all starts and ends. I don’t want to talk because I can’t talk with him. And I can’t talk when it’s about him. Writing doesn’t feel cathartic if he doesn’t know. Exchange doesn’t feel meaningful without him. I feel and am utterly crippled without him. Of course it seems like common sense that I’ll eventually move past it but it’s not getting any better. In truth it’s just getting worse. And so every time life deals me another blow I’m further incapacitated. It’s like the draw 4 cards are stacking up and I can only foresee the end of the game.
My ex-boyfriend, I used to call him my favorite person. That was before I knew “favorite person” was an actual BPD term and symptom. But this guy, I never called him my favorite person. I never saw him as my favorite person. He was just my person. I did not realize the weight of that.
I really can’t continue this post.
Thanks for reading til the end.
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