Once again, crying in the mirror and looking at myself with my red eyes and my helpless self leaning on the wall and sliding down, to sit on the cold washroom floor.
Pride and happiness ruins a person; or at least it ruined me. I was foolish to think that for once everything will be alright. It kind of hurts me whenever I look up to what I thought I could achive and I’m failing.
I’m only failing and I’m falling deep in that hole, where I have lost myself a thousand times. That hole has taken me under so many times and I let it happen. I let the darkness get over me.
This blog post is not going to promote positivity. Today I will write about the pain; the ugly truth, and I already know I cant even write about it. What is there even to say when I am broken inside?
Who will I speak to with my trembling voice? Who will hear my whispering and my sobbing? I can not trust a single soul with the pain I have.
When your emotions are heightened and you feel you are succeeding, something does always break you down, there is no such thing as permanent happiness.
Oh how painful, when you end up with a big failure in the things you thought you could master. And with every day you live more is the day you think “Is this really worth it?”.
I tried finding my happiness in small things and with time they became bigger and the steps to success were fascinating and loveable. It broke all in to me and I could only see me vanish and becoming one with the transparency.
My tears were unseen and my words were not heard… I don’t blame anyone for it. I was the one who wanted the distance, and I will always choose the distance. Closure has also hurt me.
Now looking at my words and my writings, I want to see if this was a healing process, or me just getting closer to death. I am failing to understand my own self. Speaking about something might make it easier for your poor heart, but it won’t make the problem you were having go away.
The closest of my closest people were enemies to me, and their venom hit me stronger than any drug, and it went deeper than any of my selfharm scars.
I can’t write anything else.