The Complexity of Confusion

I didn't get out of bed today. 

All I had was my thoughts to accompany me. My thoughts have never been good company for me. My thoughts are sicker than I am. 

I spent the day staring at the ceiling, spacing out the TV and trying to organize my thoughts better...so I know what I'm thinking. My brain is upside down right now and I'm suffering in silence. The second people know...they try to help you...but the thing is...there isn't a person on this earth who can help you, because they don't understand. They will never understand. 

I think I need to break up with my boyfriend. I don't want to. But I think I need to. Our relationship is just one big lie with an inevitable expiration date. As badly as I didn't want to believe this...it's true. The weird thing is, I convinced myself that the longer I stayed with him, the more he would want to be with me permanently. The more of a future we would have together. I named out children. I dreamed of waking up next to him every morning. Falling asleep in his arms every night. Living together. Being married to him. Taking his last name. 

None of that is going to happen. It never was. 

Today I texted him telling him how confused I was about everything and he replied back "follow your heart"... THAT was a bunch of bullshit. I've been listening to my heart over my head for over a year now. He's the one that's ignoring how he truly feels. He's the one that is rejecting any type of future with me because of what everyone else expects of him. He's not listening to his heart, or his gut or even his dick...he's listening to his parents. His family who says, despite never meeting me, that I am not, nor will I ever be good enough for him because I'm black, I'm American, and I'm not Muslim. 

The worst part is that even though he says he loves me, he doesn't even want to fight for me or our relationship. He just seems very cowardly and lazy about the entire thing. He won't break up with me. He wants me to decide the fate of this relationship. But then again, he won't fight to keep me...this isn't the hot, passionate love that I once thought it was. 

In the end, I'm the one left hurting, left curled up on the floor crying...pumped full of drugs to stop me from going on a rage filled terror. I'm just stuck. Staring at the ceiling, tuning out the TV, wondering what the fuck I'm going to do. 

I keep asking myself...am I really in love? Or do I just deeply care about this person and say I'm in love because I am scared shitless of being alone. It's true. I break up with him and I have nobody. No friends, family that won't even try to understand my mental issues...I got nobody. And if I am the one to call it quits...it will be my fault I'm alone. I will turn into that girl that reaches out to random guys just for some kind of attention and affection...because my life lacks either and I'm lonely and desperate. 

What the fuck am I going to do?! I can't lay in this bed, hopeless and helpless, for the rest of my life. 

Decisions must be made. 

That Itch You Cannot Scratch

I just got sick of resisting. 

I used to cut myself. The last time I did it I was 17. I'm 22 now. 

I made it over 5 years without cutting. When things got bad and I couldn't emotionally handle things, I would want to cut. I would dream about running the blade over my skin. Feeling the sharp pain. The warm blood coming out from the cut. I missed it. 

It's like smoking. I've quit several times. But you just get a taste for it. In your mouth. No matter how much gum you chew, or patches you have, or e-cigs you smoke, you will still miss that taste. The feeling of pulling the smoke into your mouth is the best. 

Tonight, I had a fight with my boyfriend. We had a really good day together, but then everything went badly after he went home and we began texting back and forth. I found out some information he was hiding from me, and it made me reconsider everything else he had ever told me. Was he ever in love with me? How could I not have seen the signs of his underhanded-ness? They were clear as day, but I was too blinded by 'love' or whatever you call it...to use my reasonable observation skills. 

I started to panic. I started to cry. I could feel my breath becoming heavy and quick. I could feel myself shaking like a leaf. I was going into a full blown anxiety attack and nothing was going to change it. I left the house. Took a long walk. But my problems still weighed heavily on my back. I kind of randomly asked myself: why don't you just hurt yourself ? 

So I did. 

I didn't cut, I burned myself. With a lighter. I tried to cut. But all this time

Must've turned my into a pussy...I just couldn't dig deep enough to cut. 

Instead I wake up with a squid shapped blister on my wrist. 

I won't deny that it felt good... The pain.