Adulting is Hard

Another project done and dusted. I made it through a tough job with the most difficult client I’ve had (so far). I thought I’d be over the moon. I usually feel good afterward. But this time? I felt nothing for the first couple of days, and didn’t know what to do with myself. And now I feel like a fraud. Like I don’t deserve to feel proud of myself for a job well done, because… well, I suck. And I’m not actually that good.

I suck at relationships, work, socially, etc. Basically anything that involves being alive. Why do I bother trying? All I want to do is hide away in a dark, quiet, small space, with tons of blankets (like I used to do, but have since adulted) and my Cuddly. Being a kid was hard, but being an adult is even harder, and I just don’t want to do it anymore. Having to pretend to be normal every day is exhausting.

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Cuddly – He’s super soft. I want a real one too, but have now finally given up on that dream.

Am I?

Am I awake, or am I asleep

Lost in a dream, floating within

Whispers from all around

Telling me it’s time to wake up

Is that voice real or just an illusion

Am I really in a dream, asleep

Or am I awake where reality doesn’t exist

Am I dead, or am I alive

Am I still breathing

Seeing the body, but there’s no soul

Is this my voice, or just an echo I hear

I don’t know what’s real, what’s not

I don’t know where I am

I don’t know if I am

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And So It Ends…

Jasmine and I are done.

We had met up for coffee last Sunday. The first in months… Ever since Elizabeth and I started dating.

I thought things had gone quite well. We were even talking about my plans for my birthday next year, with her telling me she’d be there. After the meet up I sent her a text telling her that it was nice seeing her again, and asking how she had felt about it. I didn’t hear anything back from her until Wednesday/Thursday (can’t remember exactly) evening.

Her message was blunt and to the point. I’m not going to type the message out here (for anonymity’s sake), but she told me that we shouldn’t see or talk to one another again. I replied to her text, saying that I understand and will respect her decision, and wishing her good things for the future. But then I discovered that she had blocked me… my message didn’t go through. She had blocked me on Facebook as well. I get the whole “it’s over” thing, but am I a criminal that I needed to actually be blocked?

That’s when I felt it. “A slap in the face”, were the words used when Elizabeth was trying to help me give words to what I was experiencing/feeling in that moment. She was spot on with that one.

A slap in the face, followed almost instantly by that feeling of shock that numbs the pain of the sting. The rest of that evening I felt that sense of “what the hell just happened?”.

Waking up the next day, and even up until now, I feel nothing. The fondness and love I felt for her isn’t there anymore. The weirdest thing is that I can’t even remember anything about our time together (both as a couple, and then later as friends). I can’t seem to access the memories. There are no emotions. It’s as if she never even existed.

And this leads me to question whether I exist at all. Whether anything does.

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Alone

Did a photo shoot for some friends. Wasn’t up for it. Depressed. Did it anyway. They seemed to be having fun. I was on autopilot. Tried to have fun. It wasn’t happening.
Went out for coffee with them afterward. Felt empty. Could barely talk. Good thing they seemed to be talking among themselves enough for my silence to be okay. For me to be invisible. And they didn’t notice a thing. Empty… Lonely… Depressed… Empty.
Supposed to be working on the photo’s. Something I enjoy. But not in the mood.

Just want to disappear. Want to be alone. But so lonely. Don’t want to be alone. Want to curl up into a ball, with a warm hand to hold. Lie with my head on someone’s lap. So cold. Inside and outside. Want to be soothed. Only have myself for that. Don’t want myself. Too much sad to hold alone.

That’s enough for today. Going to rest my face against my special super soft little blanket. Sleep in my therapy “jacket”. Hold onto that special hug. Pull the duvet over my head. Disappear into the dark for a while. Alone. Always alone.