I just fucked up a lot and I’m not sure what to do. I threw a huge tantrum and screamed.
I wish I could make this post about what I’ve done this week with my time off in a dangerous low income community, working with young people that inspire me and a really cool group of college students. I will admit that I did some writing in a journal over the week. But otherwise, I am melting into my own depression.
My boyfriend turned out to be a real fuckboy fuckerhead. The friday before I left, I told him not to consider us in a relationship anymore. But he was drunk. I thought maybe he’d reach out to me over the week, but that didn’t happen. I feel like I’ve been treated like something so worthless despite the fact that I put my energy into it. Was I perfect? No. Did I do some things that were wrong? Yeah. Do I deserve this? I don’t think so.
Back to the square where I don’t want to be in another relationship because it’s too stressful to hide from my family anyway. There’s no point in dreaming. The only person worth dreaming about, in my distorted mind, then becomes the only person I ever loved, Bo.
And then I broke and checked online and yes he is very much happy and in a relationship and I don’t care what people say about it looking different online, this kid is happy. These people are happy. I am not.
Sometimes I imagine these scenes where I’m sitting in a hospital room, and in the bed lies my Bo, hooked up to an EKG, and I pull off the cords. How is it fair for me to live so miserable with no escape or hope for improvement or to be in a happy relationship like that? Why is my life so miserable and his is not? How come, once upon a time, and still deep down, I just want his happiness, but all I feel is a dark desire for him to not live a prosperous life? You can say that’s typical ex relationship thinking, but it’s not typical, and it’s not simple, it’s complicated, because I love this person. It has been years and I am not over this person. I dream of this person like it were yesterday. My heart aches for this person. My heart aches for the kinds of things he says to the other girl. My heart aches for the way he loves her instead of me, and how everything that happened means so little. My mind convinces me that everything is my fault. This ended badly because of me—my depression, my culture, my behavior, my society that shouldn’t have clashed with his.
I know I am living a more aware life. I have seen so many amazing things and I care about so much more than he and this other girl ever will it what seems to be their inconsequential lives in their small town Christian environment, un-exposed to the types of things I am exposed to. I refuse to believe there is under any circumstance a chance that they are as aware of the world as I am. But then again, who cares? They’re happy, I’m not. I’m suicidal, they’re alive. I scream at my mother and my sisters when all they are trying to do is help me and they don’t even worry about those kinds of things.
I really want to kill myself right now.
I feel like ice cream on the pavement.
I miss Bo so much because the last memory I have of being truly happy was when I was with him. It sucks, because I have had some great experiences since then. I’ve climbed a mountain. I’ve hiked miles of backcountry. I’ve helped a lot of people see their potential. I’ve played and made friends and laughed. I’ve been loved by an amazing family. I’ve worked hard at a job I really enjoyed. I’ve experienced culture and food and a sense of collective self. I’ve gone exploring and sat outside and gone to concerts and played with dogs and meowed a lot.
But I’ve also stood by the river thinking of jumping in, I’ve also laid in the snow and let my body freeze, I’ve also yelled and hit and hurt others, I’ve also had panic episodes and seizures, I’ve also been in the hospital, I’ve also been faced by hate and been unable to understand who I am as a Muslim, as a woman, as a non-white, as a bisexual. I’ve spent nights just crying the whole time and days without eating or showering. I’ve felt bitterness deep in my soul I can’t overcome.
Everything has become a fight for me. Everyone has the potential to be my enemy. I am living in trauma, and instead of being open to healing, I allow another traumatic event to happen and wash over me without much moving forward. I occasionally tell myself I am strong and I can do this. I have been pushed around a lot. Let me be pushed around again. I can overcome. Other times I am weak and want to let everything hurt me. I will never heal. I don’t have any real control over my own mind, my own brain, I wish I could switch it out.
This medicine I’m taking is clearly not doing anything for me. I’ll see a therapist in a couple days. I don’t plan on hurting myself but it really sucks to be alive.