We both know it’s been tough lately. It’s worse because I don’t have anyone to talk to about these things except for you. I used to tell these things to a friend but these days, it seems like I’ll only be a nuisance to her. In addition, my friend and I are separated by time. She’s been spending her time trying to earn some money and doing other things. What do I have, self? What have I been doing? I’ve been sleeping and sitting down in front of my laptop, playing games, watching films and videos, and visiting my imaginary world just to get away from these bad thoughts. My imaginary world? I created that to escape from you, self. You and I both know my self-esteem has no in-between. Some days I feel like I’m the smartest, wittiest, and most awesome person I know. But most days, I feel irrelevant and shitty. The imaginary world we created has always made me feel good. I feel like a master of destiny. But then again, these days, some of the things happening in our own little world has been quite reflecting our reality. It seems I can’t separate imaginary from reality anymore. I’m scared that I won’t be able to completely separate imaginary and real. Maybe one day, I’ll go crazy because I’m going to believe that the imaginary and real world I live in are one.
Dear self, I’ve been trying to remember who I was before this. I’m trying to remember what type of person I was. The memories seem to be stories told by another person to me. Some memories feel like a dream, and a voice in my head tells me those memories were never real. So I read the old things I wrote on this blog from the past years. I cried. I was able to find the first blog post that I ever wrote that described the pain of this despondence. It was the first real writing that was like a chain reaction. Like a domino effect, from then on most of the things I wrote were dark and painful. I cried. I read the writings that gave a happy tone. I’m wondering, self, was it really me? How was I ever that happy over little things? Why can’t I go back to that? What really happened? Why does everything seem to be painful?
Dear self, before all of this, I told you fearing my classes was just going to pull us down. These days, I fear going to school not because of my classes but because I fear living. I fear life. I’m always exhausted before and after I go to school. I hate the screaming and my classmates’ loud voices. I hate their discussion of the latest exam. I hate being surrounded by many people. I feel alone and dead. Maybe one day, I may resort to harming you, self, just to feel alive. And I don’t want that for us to happen. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I think that if I go to sleep tonight, I won’t be able to get out of bed tomorrow.
Dear self, I want to be better but I know that it’s okay to be sad. But I’m not just sad. I’m suffering. Dear self, when will I ever meet death? I want to meet death soon. Can I go meet death on my own? I’d like to meet death now.