Lỗi - Error 404 - ENGLISH TRANSLATION - Plaaastic

Part 19

Amid all this, i still struggled in my own misery. My boyfriend totally didn't supported me selling clothes because he thought that i put on myself too much pressure from working too much. But honestly i loved my job. No, it wasn't really love, i just needed that job. It was like squeezing hands, it was like a stimulant, it'the output from all the scrambling in my brain, it helped me to give attention to one thing instead of attention to the pain in my body. Everyone thought that i had to be really stressed because of the work, but they really didn't knew about me, i was always stressed but now i just had something to blame it on.

He is one part of my life that i've never put out to the world. Living together for so long in one house, going to dance together, but besides my close friends i've never uploaded a photo of him on social media. Thruthfully i don't have a reason as to why i did that, it was simply the thought of bringing him to the public has never been produced in my mind and he also never asked. I am a careful and private person when it comes to my job even when my work is presented around the world i never talk about the things that i'm doing i just simply do them. Rare sessions when i made it home to have a dinner with him he would ask about my job and i would reply that it's fine. He knew that i take pictures and have a blog and he liked my page to show his suppert but he really didn't understand what did i do. He only knew that i loved my job and that i'm giving it all into it and that's why he supported it. Also being a person that he is, if it wasn't the job that he cared about then he just acts like he covered both of his eyes. So when i talked about the job he just knew that. He only cared about his responsibilities and a passion for dancing is the minimum part that he allowed himself to have.

We are more like a chopstick and a spoon than a miss-matching pair of chopsticks: same use, same moves, like two separate individuals that are located in the same cabinet. We are very much the same but also very much different: different enough to share with each other, same enough to be together in one bed night by night, both minding their work, silent not a word spoken.

He couldn't help me, he only made me more crazy. He didn't understand. He didn't want to understand. He didn't listen. He didn't want to listen.

And i had to google again.

If you are reading until this part and start to panic because you don't know what's going on, why am i telling you all kind of things, do all the things, then the answer is pretty simple: Because i'm bored. I'm bored, and i'm bored of all things that everyone around is telling me like „Go out and play", „Go look for passions and hobbies", „Have a dream". I want to do everything - meaning everything - and i will be good, until someone comes up to teach me even though he doesn't understand what's going on and i would say: „I did it, i did it all, but depression is depression, and i'm tired, and you just have to accept that." I'm not fine but i'm fine with the things that i'm not fine with. The sound of me screaming in my world i have to explain to everyone so they could understand, that i don't need to be saved. That scream came out unconsciously after i jumped out from the bridge, only before i touched the water. It's rhetorical question, i don't need an answer, i just want to live well so nobody could tell me anything like: „Because you didn't tried hard, that's why."

Having everything but forever feeling like nothing is nothing, forever like this.