Like unwanted party guests the thoughts arrive, casually striding in together to fuck with my mind. They're compulsive, intrusive, and highly erratic, depressive, manipulative, and obscenely manic. They've had no invite or welcoming at all, yet they play in my head like a reckless free-for-all. They'll take what they can until they've had enough, while I watch from the corner sitting silently in disgust. For I can't get them out or exonerate their presence, so patiently I just wait for their eventual evanescence.
The feelings are inevitable coming quickly and without cause, destroying my self-worth while focusing on my flaws. The emptiness remains as they sabotage and consume, disintegrating my happiness so despair can be exhumed.
What happens when you’ve found yourself stuck in some kind of limbo of satisfaction with who you are?
I’ve repeatedly found myself torn between completely loving or hating myself. There is rarely an in-between for me. There are moments when I’m so proud of the work I’ve done, where I’ve gotten, and who I’ve become. In those moments I truly and wholeheartedly love myself… But those feelings don’t tend to last very long.
It’s like my brain flips a depression switch and I’m back to hating myself. I feel like I’m not enough, I’m not worth it, I shouldn’t be here, my existence is pointless… Blah blah blah. I’m left feeling 102% unsatisfied and disappointed in where I still am and who I think i should be. Touché to mental sabotage…
I just don’t know what to do to fix this anymore. The only thing I feel like I can do at this point is let it happen, ride it out, and hope the self-love lasts longer than the hate.
Time heals… I get that. Personal effort and growth is key… Yeah sure. But will time and effort really be able to invoke complete love for myself? Or do all of us just learn to tolerate and cope with ourselves enough to survive?
Like a loose thread on your favorite sweater you unraveled me. Nonchalantly picking, pulling, and tugging at me... Until I was left nothing but a tangled mess.
Sometimes I feel like I’m just not supposed to be here.
I’ll be honest, I’m not entirely sure if my idea of ‘here’ means this lifetime, world, or body… but at times I just feel so disconnected from my own reality. I can’t seem to figure out exactly who I am or where I want to be, but somehow know that my life is screaming mediocracy.
Part of me believes that I could be living some exceptional life if I was anywhere else. Like if I had just played my cards right… if I had followed my dreams… maybe I could have been extraordinary. It’s like I’ve personally somehow robbed myself of having a more desirable, purposeful identity. I mean don’t get me wrong… I’m grateful for everything I have in my life… but the part of me having an existential crisis right now is also pissed that it all feels so meaningless. I sit here alive and thriving, yet still considering myself a pile of confused nothingness. Meh.
So… yeah… that about wraps up my rant about my existence possibly being a mistake. Thanks for taking the time to read my dissociative thoughts. 🖤
That painful reality doesn't want to coexist with reason... So disbelief disguises truth with doubt and confusion...
She left herself vulnerable to men's filthy hands... Carelessly accepting all their silent demands. She laid there complacent as they took what they pleased... Appearing content, yet desperate to leave.
You wallow in self-pity in hopes that someone takes note. You are narcissism at it's finest... Ignorant to reality and stunningly self-engrossed.
It's like a version of hide-and-seek... But we're not children... And there's no known rules... Or foreseeable end in sight. Because the person who's been doing all the searching... Is the same one still waiting to be found.
The glass of the picture frame reflects the face of a girl I just don't recognize... Not this way... Not tonight.
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