The days since my last blog post have been good. I had a fantastic birthday week, I’ve been doing better in school, and the days have flown by without a thought of suicide or depression. My days have been great but yet, I feel this guilt nagging at me. I feel guilty that things are going well in my life and I feel guilty that I’m not struggling. It’s an uncomfortable feeling – the feeling that you get when something is going to go wrong soon but you don’t know what it is. I feel anxious when I’m not plagued with problems, like I’m being selfish or putting myself about others.
Have you ever had a great day only to come home and realize that you may have wronged someone or that you were just too happy to notice others? I don’t even know if this is making any sense.
Now that the dust has settled and my birthday/wave of tests has passed and I have time to just be alone with my thoughts, I’m feeling the weight of my burden again. There’s a strange peace that comes with it though – like I can just be enclosed, encapsulated in this sadness. Its what I’m used to – what I’m comfortable with.
I’m going to a boat party in a couple of weeks and I was really excited until I realized that my scars are still there. I’ve only worn a two-piece once since I’ve carved the scars into my body. I was teaching one of my best friends to swim, and I still felt self-conscious even though no one was in the vicinity besides me and him. This will be a little different though; it’ll be in broad daylight with a bunch of strangers I don’t know. What if they ask where I got it? Do I blow it off? Do I tell them my story? I’m probably blowing this way out of proportion. I forget that people aren’t all staring at me, even if they seem like they are. They have their own problems and they’re worried about themselves.
I asked my ex-boyfriend if they’re noticeable; he said they were but that it is a part of who I am and I shouldn’t be self-conscious about it. He’s the only one who gets me fully and completely, as much as a human can anyway. I hate living without him; I hate not being able to text him about everything and having that special person who loves you and supports you no matter what – who spoils you when you don’t deserve to be spoiled and who thinks about you and cares for you when you’re having a bad day. I can’t tell him I miss him though, because it would be selfish. I don’t want us to get back together because I know in my heart that God didn’t mean for us to be together, but I miss my person. We were great together; we worked as well as two people could humanly work together, but I know that he’s not the right person for me. By breaking up with him, I was putting God first, for me and for him. I don’t know how much of that he recognizes, but it still sucks not seeing him all the time and it sucks that we couldn’t work out.
This post shouldn’t be published honestly. It was just a mess of a rant and I don’t even know what the point of this is. There’s no message or moral to this story, only that maybe the absence of God in this post aligns with the absence of God (on my part of course) in my life. If you cast God to the side, I can guarantee that whatever you put first won’t bring you the joy you’re looking for. I know that I’m becoming apathetic in everything and that I need to be vulnerable. Maybe the point of this post was to show myself that.