I don’t have a nice life.
It’s not terrible. It’s okay, but not a bit nice.
What you are seeing is the sugar-coated version of what it is to be like me. It’s filtered. I’m showing off what I am willing to share.
Who wants to be judged anyway?
I had a tough year in 2011, a really tough one that I felt hopeless. At 19, I felt like my life was heading nowhere. I was young and naive and already feeling a lot of pressure and those worries took their toll on me. However, the following year — 2012 –didn’t end up so bad. The first months were quite a stretch — so many feelings, negative ones. But it ended better than expected. Like I fell from a high-rise building but I didn’t die. Just bruised, but felt blessed for being alive.
This year isn’t turning out so well for me and I got more than a month before it ends and I don’t think it’d end the way it ended last year. I know that everyone has ups and downs and I am no exception but sometimes, I just feel like I don’t want to deal with things anymore.
There are a few people, really few, to whom I could really share my feelings and bare what’s happening with my life with very little gatekeeping. But as much as I want, it’s just not that easy to open up. Yes, I can somehow — little bits, but there are secrets I keep to myself.
I don’t know where am I going with this post anyway. Sometimes I feel like just stopping because I just don’t want to go on with this. Every single day is filled with worry. While I believe that we should always focus on the present, I just couldn’t shrug things off and let things go without me doing anything. This is me being the control freak. I am a control freak. I plan things ahead. If something is bad, I will do something to stop it from getting worse.
I have been thinking for quite a while now if I should just stop seeing and talking from people in the past. I want to cut the ties, and start all over. They’ve known me since I was a kid and they have somewhat molded me into an image and they were stuck with that. But that image is no longer me. The life they thought I am living is no longer mine.
Things have changed so much. This is too much. I just couldn’t help but be thankful with the little happiness in between because those moments keep me strong somehow. I am not that strong, and I am fragile, almost breaking. I am so afraid, scared, terrified because I know this is not the worst and it already feels like it. This could still get worse? I can no longer take it. I am strong, I am trying to be strong… but you can only push me too far.
I wish to have the guts to deal with things. I always admire my mother for her strength, her faith. She never gives up. I want to be like her, but I couldn’t be like her. I just can’t.
Now, I’m in the middle of something and I don’t know what to do. I’m just here, watching everything unfold, letting go of control. As I watch how all these things turn out, how the circumstances affect not only my life but the lives of people close to my heart, I could only close my eyes and swallow the pain.
Stop saying I have a nice life. Yes, I don’t have a terrible one. I am okay, sometimes the pain is just too much. But I just hate that somebody keeps on emphasizing that I have such a nice life without even realizing I don’t. It’s like adding to the pain, making me realize what I lost in the long run because of bad decisions.
I am so afraid to confront things because whenever I try, I fail. I never won. I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. I’m so broken in so many ways. I’ve never felt so helpless.