cold light through the curtains

prove them wrong

I'm not strong-willed nor determined, I'm stubborn and angry.

I've head countless times "you're never gonna do anything with your life" from people that were supposed to help me. "You're too weak and terrified. You're gonna end up in and out of the hospital - you're sick and we can't do anything for you anyways because you won't recover."
At the start, they were right. I failed right before the finish line. I fell and broke in pieces when I was so close to my dream.

I managed to do something with myself, went through the hardships as much as I could. I neglected the fear that was sticking to my skin. I ignored the exhaustion and overworked myself to the point of the burnout, and ignored it as well. Why caring for my mental health if I know it's already ruined? They can't do anything for me. I just needed to achieve as much as I can before I break down for good.

The 2022 attempts were unknown to everyone, and nobody knew that I was high on xan at uni. I just went to class and people thought I was funny. My arms were covered in scars - I'm glad it was getting cold again. This cardigan never disappoints. If nobody knows I'm failing, then I can keep going. Prove them wrong.

I was never driven by dreams I could have. I'm always driven by rage and anger. I don't believe in myself, the same way they didn't place any hopes on me. I'm just stubborn and angry. This kind of anger that could make me burn down the city and destroy everything. I destroyed myself spending my days and nights on assignments and studying until I fall asleep on my desk. It's not for me. It's not for them. It's for the whole world to see. I'm successful now.

I know my downfall isn't far away and I know my self-destructive thoughts are inevitably gonna catch me again. I don't care — if I fail (which will happen anyways), it will be a glorious, tragic end. I'm not a hero, I'm not a movie character, but I will have achieved so much more they thought I could.

I've already achieved a lot more. But I can't fail now. Not so close to the end. Not once again. I don't want the 2021 scenario to become reality again.

If I'm alive now, it's because I'm running on adrenaline, because God knows I ran out of energy long ago. And when I stare at the ceiling at 2 AM, smoking and wondering why I'm not ending it all now, I feel the rage consuming me from the inside through the tears. I'm not crying because I'm sad. I'm sobbing because I'm awfully angry and frustrated. I can't fail now.

I won't get drunk and high now because my assignment is due tomorrow and I have to work on it. I won't attempt now because if someone saves me, then I'll end up in the ER again and won't be able to do this essay. Hold on. I can't starve myself - wait, I can. Who cares. I've done this for years and managed to do what I had to get done. I can do this a little longer. Also, I have to be pretty in my prom dress. Right now, I'm not. I'll be perfect when my body gives up on me.

But not right now. Not before I graduate.
I'll find a way or another.
I won't fail so close to success once again.