I've always been the type of person who sleeps super late (and by super late, I mean super early the next day) and wakes up extremely late. Of course, I usually don't do it on purpose. I decide sometimes that I wanted to watch this certain movie or this particular show and I get so lost in their fictional world that I only notice I went overboard when my morning alarm snaps me from my daze of watching. I seriously don't do it on purpose, but it happens.
Sometimes, I don't even watch or read. I just stare at the ceiling or toss and turn in my bed because the voices in my head won't shut the hell up or because my brain won't stop thinking of every horrible situation I got myself in, sometimes, it's because I overthink and I end up crying in the middle of the night; sobbing for the sake of making sure I had to feel something. I needed to feel any kind of emotion like sadness and pain and regret and all those awful things.
I'd be willing to feel all those horrible things just so I won't lose myself to feeling comfortably numb, being emotionless because honestly? That's one of my biggest fears.
To lose myself.
To lose emotion and not care about whatever could happen to me.
To be so estranged with everything.
It's like I know I have to feel something, but when I look at something that usually cheers me up and I feel nothing? That scares me. Emotion is the closest thing to a description I have for humanity.
Emotions and memories and experiences makes up humanity and imagine losing your humanity? Yeah, didn't think so. Nobody would like it.
That's why sometimes I try to be normal. I try to sleep early and eat the proportionate meal size and exercise and everything but it just doesn't work for me. I couldn't commit to them. I couldn't commit to anything or anyone, really.
To reset my body clock, I do all-nighters. Be awake for thirty six hours and tire myself out so when the time comes for me to sleep, I'm as dead as a log or a corpse. Whichever your mind prefers.
With this tactic, people call me psycho and crazy-- I failed to see the connection of my tactic of resetting my body clock and a mental disorder that means I have lack or absence of empathy and sympathy. I really do, maybe it's just me and I'm blind and dense to how I'm slowly becoming a psychopath or people are getting their definitions mixed up.
I admit, even if I do boast on how much of a psycho I am and how I could potentially become the next serial killer or mass murder; like I said, I'm scared of losing myself. I'm scared of losing my empathy. I'm scared of becoming a psychopath, basically. To lose all emotion and humanity in itself.
I remember having a huge fight with one of my best friends at the end of 7th grade. My depression and anger and anxiety was building up on me and at that time, I didn't know it. I'd say the fault was with the both of us; you see, she was a clingy person who loved to call me every second she could and I felt honoured, really- flattered even, that someone would be so keen on wanting to talk to me but it started to feel suffocating and annoying.
It didn't help that my family members started bullying me about it, I was never one who took that type of things lightly at the time. I became cold to her, it seemed cool for me, I thought it would've made me popular or something. I didn't know, I just knew it was going to change things. We became distant but I hadn't said anything mean or rude. Yet. She was from a different school so one of my other best friends who went to the same school as me told me how she was spreading rumours about me about us in grade school.
She told everyone, apparently, that I was a flirt and that I was stealing her crushes and I got so confused. Out of the both of us, I was the one who constantly had a crush on someone and if she had a crush on someone, then i wasn't informed. Of course, I didn't confront her about it, I didn't know how to really. Then I hear more rumours about her dating one of my enemies just to spite me and I've heard it from her 'boyfriend's friends themselves how much shit she was saying behind my back. I still kept quiet but I isolated myself from her. Avoided her more but she became more persistent until the day came when I broke.
It was the summer after 7th grade and I was having summer class, God, was I destructive. I was so hateful at the time and I felt nothing. I talked back to my elders and self-harmed, cussed people out and bullied people. I was one of those girls. I was filled with so much hate and self-loathing. The depression came in a large ball of fury and she just so happened to be the one who got hit with it.
She chatted me on Facebook and I was so mean to her. I told her so many things and even spat out personal slurs that I knew would hurt her, and they did. Looking back, how she forgave me, I could never do to myself. If I were in her position, I would've never even thought of forgiving me. But remembering how I felt, what I said, I knew that I was still holding back on everything I said. I knew that I could've said worse, worse things that could have permanently scarred her and our friendship. I could've done so much worse, i was just enjoying our argument because I felt something from our fights. I didn't know what but it was something and at the time, that was all that mattered.
I was a 7th grader and I was ignorant. I didn't know what was happening to me and why i was feeling so numb but I was (actually still am) destructive. I brought up her parents and the guy that we both liked in grade school. I didn't like him anymore but the fact that she told people I stole her crushed just frustrated me because he chose her, and for some reason i was the monster? Fine. Be that way, I thought.
If she was going to model me out as a monster, then I would become a monster. And I did. God, I knew I could've said so much worse things and the fact that I know I have that capability and mentality, to be able to destroy someone's well-being that way and feel good about it, I nearly lost myself those couple of summers. I only got myself out of that state in 9th grade.
We had stopped talking since, I blocked her and unfriended her and just got her out of my life but it was 9th grade. My vision cleared and I saw what a mess I made. I cussed out my dad and swore out my mum and had scars all over my arms and my best friend was depressed, suicidal as much as I was because of me. I caused so much pain in her. I couldn't take it anymore.
Was it February or March? I couldn't remember, but I apologized. It was a long letter but I apologized. I told her everything from the self-destruction to the self-harm to the depression. Everything. I told her that she didn't need to forgive me if she didn't want to, I even told her that I wouldn't have forgiven myself if I were her too but she did. 9th grade was when I changed, drastically. My image and reputation as a the bitchy, feisty, sassy girl degraded or maybe upgraded to a feisty, sassy and kind of funny girl. This isn't self-proclaimed, people told me I got nicer and way funnier. I don't know what happened in 9th grade that changed me but it worked.
The only consistent thing in all my four years of high school was my lack of sleep, haven't had a good night's sleep in literal years. Anyways, that's what I felt like sharing today.
Peace out
