11.13.2023
I'm writing this for anyone to read, if you're interested.
I do not have any prospects in life, or for this diary, I'm going to college but I don't know where my life will lead.
I'm a single 25 year old who's never truly grown up, I have friends which I'm very thankful for, I have a brother, a father who's unable to walk for long periods of time, and a mother with dementia and alzheimer's. I think about death a lot. If I die soon, no one will know what kind of life I have led, and that scares me. That's why I'm writing this.
I don't want anyone to feel pity for me, because the life I have is a bundle of choices I took. Which many I regret. I feel the gut wrenching loneliness that makes me unable to sleep well at night, the feeling that makes me feel unlovable, and a sadness that empties my chest. I don't know where to begin.
I'm really sorry if this sounds boring.
I was in a psychiatric hospital, went to various therapists, my mother wasn't the best mother, she was mean, she hurt me deeply, and I miss her desperately. I miss her hug when I was sad, I miss the comfort of having a mother, and knowing she was there. She is now sick, but she was a smart woman, volatile woman.
I never truly realized how little time I had with her, if I did, I wouldn't have tried to hurt myself as many times as I did, I would've cherished even the fights, I would've asked the questions I no longer am able to get answers for. What was your favorite dress? What was your favorite memory of me? What was your first love, and how did it felt? I will never know, they are lost in time. I will never have kids who will know the mother I knew, for better or for worse.
My father was absent for some years, he became the shell of the man I once knew, depression takes the best of us. It did to me, my brother too. My brother is the sweetest soul I ever met, always helped me, it was always us against the world. I don't want to leave him alone, ever. I try to be strong for him, we only have each other in this world as we are both lonely, despite having friends.
Who sits with you when you're at a bar isn't necessarily who you can call late at night to cry your heart out, and I'm afraid life has impaired me enough to not believe in a chance of being helped. I've been crying for help since I was 13. I learned the world doesn't owe me a cent a little too late. My last visit to the psychiatric hospital (2020) showed me the cruel system we live in. They hurt me while I was asleep, I will never know for sure what they did, only the marks they left on my body. I have been loved romantically, I would like to believe. My best wasn't enough, and people aren't replaceable, but better things come, so did for my partner. We dated seven years, he moved on from me, we grew apart. I'm thankful for the moments we had, the fights.
I can't change the past, I try to be strong, I try to be brave, but it never seems enough, and I always end up in the bottom of a bottomless pít. My mom was the only one who cheered me up when I got into my university. Even sick she tries to tell me to keep going. I feel like I'm fighting a sisyphian task. No aim, just trying to exist, the ball always rolls down again.
The happy moments I had were fleeting glimpses of a future I could never acquire, a dream to achieve, but getting distant by the second. I dreamed of having a family, marrying. My kids knowing my parents, how they were. Hell, even now would be better than too late. I cry when seeing how old my parents got, I'm afraid of time, of my insignificance in this world, the little achievements feel so long in this world. Even this diary will be lost in a sea of websites, like me.
Too much information for one entry, I guess, but I would rather say it, finally write it down and put it into worlds, make a piece of me live somewhere. Exist for god knows how long. I exist, I am here, with a world upon my shoulders and nowhere to deposit my memories, no one to share them neither. I think I talk too much. How I wish someone knew the smell of my mom's cooking other than me and my brother, how the roses of my first house grew. You can imagine, but to be there, it was different.
Like tears in the rain.
We all fade away, but I'm not ready to. I wish I had something good to say, but before I did, you should know how the sad outshines the good right now.
I can't sleep today, I'm crying too much for too little. My childhood feels so close, I remember everything too well, it pains me, to forget is both a curse and a blessing, memories hurt too much, but without them, what do we have to fight for? We all want the same innocence of our child selves, we try to obtain the comfort and safety we wish we had. I wonder if every "adult" feels the same way I do, trapped in a body that only gets old. I try to tell my parents I love them, but they will never understand how much. This love pains me to the core. I don't think I can live my life without them, out of love. My dad was my best friend, and I remember things when I was less than four years old, almost clearly, how their smiles were true. I wish I could make them smile once more, and I wish they knew how much I cared.
This is all too much. I'm seeking help, but I don't think anyone cares. I feel like a failure, I feel like I started on negative score; As much as I sound like I'm trying to make a sobstory, I'm trying to gather points I would like people to know about me, things that are important and show my truth. I stay alive for my favorite videogames, which I haven't finished, movies that are coming out in a while, my cats who constantly search for me, my brother, my father and my mother. My friends, who live far away and still hope to see me up close. I try to hold on to that. The sound of the rain, my old fan, my favorite teacher.
But if only you knew how bad things really are... I'm the contrast between a pessimist and an optimist. A constant battle between hope and defeat.
I will try to keep this updated. Have a good day, thank you for reading.