Set me free

Rambling

I don't know what to do anymore. It feels like somebody attached an anchor to my foot and dropped it in the ocean. I'm drowning and the knot is so tangled and tight that I can't break out of it. I can't breathe.

Last night I cut myself. It's actually been quite a long time since I've done that. And I'm not going to lie it felt good. I don't even know how to explain it. It was like the pain I was keeping inside was pouring out alongside the blood. For a second I felt numb. And then in an instant everything felt real. And all at once that felt like the only option. Death could come so easy. But I really didn't try. Cutting myself wasn't an attempt at suicide. If I had attempted to kill myself, I would have succeeded. No it wasn't an attempt.

I can't really explain why I'm feeling this way either. I mean everything was looking up for me. I have an amazing boyfriend who loves me unconditionally. I live in an amazing apartment with him. There's food in the fridge. There's water to drink. Hot-water to bathe In. I honestly don't know what is getting me so depressed. All I know is I feel purposeless. Like a waste of breath. My mom doesn't love me. And my dad tries to make up for what my mom didn't do. I love my dad. But He's preoccupied with his second family. I guess I shouldn't blame him. I just wish I could stop feeling this way. I wish I could just go back to being okay. Back to when I was just surviving. Now it feels like I'm dying; slowly but surely. Whether I try to end it quicker with suicide or not, death is coming and it's right around the corner. I don't even know who to talk to anymore. It feels like nobody would listen. And even if they did listen it feels like nobody would ever understand. They wouldn't understand what it's like to feel so alone in this world no matter how many people surround you. They wouldn't understand what it's like to crave and desire to feel like you have a reason you're here. And even if they have ever felt like that, they wouldn't understand what it's like when that first drop of blood comes out of the cut you made yourself. How that automatically seems to make everything just a tad bit better. The pain you feel physically is a hell of a lot better than the pain you have to keep mentally and emotionally inside your heart and mind. Last night my boyfriend and I were talking. He said that if he made me happy I wouldn't have done it. And that Our love should be strong enough to keep me alive. And that right there is the problem. I love him. And he makes me happier than I've ever been my entire life. But what I can never seem to explain is that it had nothing to do with him. But I can't seem to understand is how I make him happy. How do I not make him miserable? I'm an emotional mess. I'm a wreck. And he deserves better than me. He deserves the most amazing girl in the entire world. He deserves that fairytale ending. And what if I can't provide that? It sure feels like I can't. I used to wish Id have someone to talk to. But now I realize it really doesn't matter even if I did have someone to talk to. It's always the same. Judgment.