Broken

Sometimes I just want to get really fucked up and write until it is raw and beautiful and ugly.


This is more fitting of my thought process right now than anything else could be.  I'm going to sit down and write the real, honest truth right now.  No waffling around it like I have been, no subtle implications that only a few would catch, just the truth.  The way I intended it to be written.  I want this to be a long post because I've got a lot on my mind, and even though I don't know what I want to say or how I want to say it, I know that it needs to be thrown down somewhere, might as well be here.  Words of caution for the wise: don't read this.  Just don't.  It's not written for you.  Even if you read this blog religiously (I'm not sure if I even have such a following anymore), ignore this one post.  You have been warned.

What ever happened to all of that progress?  The 'getting better' as it was so aptly put.  What happened to not being so fucked up and broken and hurt?  Well, I know what happened.  At this point, it's fairly obvious, really.  And I don't have much more to say on why I'm here right now.  I'm so sorry if this hurts, but it needs to be said: this is going to fuck me up.  For the next three (four?) months, I'm not going to be the same person.  I'm going to be terrified of just about everything and anything.  More than that bothers me, it terrifies me.  Because part of the basis of the way I lived my life was not being afraid of certain things.  And now I'm going to be back to that point, where I don't remember how I used to function because I'm too scared of going one millimeter too far.  I'm scared that this is going to change everything and make it fall apart and I hate that.

I give up on pretending that this doesn't bother me because it does.  It bothers me that I had to go and fuck everything up.  I don't want to undermine any of what you said, but I feel like right now I'm in that same place of guilt.  I keep waking up in this misery of not knowing anything and knowing that all I have ahead of me is another day of not knowing and being ignored and just trying to get through the day.  I want all of this to be over, but even then I'm afraid that it's not going to be enough.  I'm terrified that this has thrown everything back to worse than it was before.  All of that hard work, everything since summer, all of the time and effort spent getting better...what's it all worth now?  Maybe it's the only reason we're still here (read it as you will), but there are days when I would rather not be.  I'm sorry.

I'm a mess right now.  I feel like I've gone and fucked everything up and that there is absolutely nothing I can do.  I don't know how to fix this.  I have a feeling I can't make this go away and I don't know what to do about it when it doesn't.  More than anything, I want this to be fixed, I want it to get better, I want us to be okay, to be better, to not be left broken and fucked up like we are right now.  And I hate that I don't know how.  I hate that I don't even know if either of us is going to be okay after this.  I want to believe it, but I really don't know.  I hate that.  And I hate myself for not being stronger or better or for making it harder or making it hurt more or for caring or any of the countless things that lead to misery right now.

I don't even know what to say anymore.  I can't talk about anything because the one thing I can think about is the one thing that I don't want to talk about or think about or bring up because it's not helping anybody and I can't do anything about it anymore.  I'm shaking and crying and I can't do anything else right now because I'm terrified.  I'm terrified of what may have happened and of what still might and I'm terrified that this will never be better and that I will never be okay again.  I think that more than falling apart myself, it hurts to watch you fall apart, especially to know that I don't know what to do, that I'm not good enough to keep you together.  I'm watching everything around me crumble to bits and I'm scared that when this finally ends (because I know that it will, eventually, end) there will be nothing left.  Nothing left of me or of you or of anything that was once acceptable or alright or something I could deal with.

I've always been proud of how independent I was, how well I took care of myself, how much control I had.  And now all I can think of is that I can't do this by myself and I can't take care of myself and I have absolutely no control over anything anymore.  I can get through this, but I know that I won't be able to deal with it if I'm alone at the end.  I want this to get better.  I want it to work out.  I don't care how long it takes, I will be there and do anything I can for as long as it takes.  I told you before all of this started that I didn't want to live looking forward to it ending.  I still don't.  So please, if that's how it has to end, just say it, because I don't want this to hurt anymore.  I'm so fucking sorry.