I don't know where to start, so I'll just start typing and something has to come to mind for the introduction of what I want to say today.
Few people actually care that much about someone else's personal things. I'd like to say friends do, loved ones do, but deep inside you are left alone with what you think. A person is most likely to not have the hability to convey what she/he thinks and feels really. Only partial moments of once reality is perceived by others. I've come to realize I don't even behave the same around different people. One human being makes some parts of my persona come out and another human being makes another part of me come to surface. It's the amount of time you spend with someone that allows you to show your true self, or what's most similar to your true self, because there is always sides of us that we chose to keep private..things we've done maybe, how we've felt, fears, doubts, pretty much the things we ourselves wonder. And that is if you feel comfortable around them. Still... how much does that person want to hear you or is waiting to hear themselves. Few really care.
I used to have a friend, she was my best friend in the world. We met when we were 2, we grew up together, i trusted with my life and I would have done anything for her. Actually, I did everything for her. I'm not saying I lived for her but when she needed sth I'd be there, to defend her, listen, care, love, be quiet or make a fuzz, tell her how things were with no lies no bullshit.
We were best friends from age 2 till 17. That's 15 years of siting next to each other at school, being every afternoon together, fighting or laughing. You'd think she cared, at least half they way I cared. But she didn't. We both had had boyfriends through time, we still kept some space for us, some night durng the weekends to go out and tell each other everything. Damn, after all that time we even had our own language together, people who heard us couldn0t udnerstand a single thing. We used the right words for the wrong things. We always relied on each other.
when we were 17 she got together with this guy, who even i thought was great...I even hooked them up together, he'd ask me to hide letters in her room, i even carried with me a teddy bear inside a fragile box inside a bus for more than 24 hours while we traveled, taking care of it so i could give it to her from him when we arrived in perfect conditions.
Well, they got together of course, one year later slowly she had forgoten about me. I was with my own bf at the time (now ex) I'd tell her that we needed to make some time for us (me and her) and she said of course.. and bla bla bla, she didn't care. At my birthday she came to my house with him. She iasked me to try to talk about regular things, not our inner jokes cause..well..he'd get jealous cause he didn't understand. So i did. She spent an hour with me and left. I was crying when she left.. she knew why but I smiled my bigest smile, and I told her I was so happy she had found some time for me and that I apreciated it so much. She left of course.
Since then she has been away. She has to hold his hand or she can't even speak. She checks with him before looking at me. I've told her about all this of course.. still..nothing. Well good for her. I think it's been months since I've seen her, and it's not like i can really talk to her when we meet. She has put me down every time she had a chance.. because she is now a grown up (at age 20) and i'm still silly cause I go out with some friends to a bar to talk and have some drinks (we don't even get drunk). I'm silly cause I like to laugh. She has put me and the rest of the group down every chance she gets. For halloween me and my friends decided to throw a party. A costume party..(we hadn't had a costume party since we were 11). She inmediatly informed us she wouldnt be atending. Because it was ridiculous for a 20 year old to do such a thing. No no, no party for her.
She was my best friend.. I do have others, but she was the one who knew all about me.
I felt betrayed and discarted. But I wont get into that... even if she does think i' not worth it.
So you see, I'd love to say friends do really care but ... do they?
After I finished high school (for 2 many reasons that i might explain another day) I slowly got depressed. By the begning of this year all i did was cry and be hurt. I trully was hurt...
My friends and I decided to go on holidays together. We went to the beach. It has to be the worst time I've had in my life. I was lonely and cried every day. They eventualy noticed. They wanted to talk about it, they cornered me in a room one night and made me talk about it. So i did..they said they understoon how I felt (they had been doing sth to hurt me .. again i might explain some other day). They said they would change but they didn't.
When we came back i locked myself in my room and for months all i did was cry. (and when i say cry i mean desperate tears, with a wooonded sould, with the bigest pain my heart has ever felt). I broke up at that time with my ex (we had been together for a year and a half) because I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't love him like i did.. but I had been with him for the last half year because I knew that If i left him..I'd be left alone for sure. Who would love me? I felt I was unloveable, ugly, I was a blob in the world. After some corrage I ended it. And i was alone.
I felt so sick and tired that I decided to go to therapy. From some place this smart impulse to want to stop feeling the pain made me go. This person i went to after half an hour tells me "i'm refering you to a psyquiatrist, you need to go right now". So I draged my ugly self to the psyquiatrist. She tells me "you need to start taking pills befoire you do sth stupid". She made me take Zoloft. (Those are antidepressives).
At that point I was going to my psyquiatrist, taking my pills AND going to a psycologist. I had to specialized people diging my brain. One who gave me pills for my heart and one who tried to talk me out of my depression. The pills didn't help much, i came home and my life had no meaning. All i wanted to do was kill myself. I kept thinking "knife". I don't know if i really wanted to kill myslef with a knife, but I know that i wanted to hurt myself. At some points i thought.. "you are nothing, you are a fat girl who makes the world uglier".. at other points i thought "if you hurtself, if u are the one who makes the cuts the you'll control it, it wont be up to destiny or whatever, you can control your pain". I had that knife in my hands so many times. But..a few months earlier I had found only a communitie. Called "Pro ana suicide society". It's for people with eating disorders and whith mental..issues. That site when it started it was pro anorexia, in time it had become about all eating disorders, to give suport to each other in life, and not about wanting to be anorexic..but the name stayed as a tradition. I'm not anorexic, i'm not bulimic, but I do have an eating disorder.... wich i wont talk about now.
God knows what those poeple found in me, but after a month there, just talking to others, they asked me to be a moderator for them. Because.. I might be a piece of shit who is not worth anything..but I still love people, and I want to give them my best. So i became a moderator, andi couldn't take a knife..because everytime I gave advice to someone about not doing it and stoping I kept thinking. "What kind of a person are you that you tell them why not at try to do it youself". So PASS kept me away from it. In there I could be someone else.. I was someone people came for advice and I was... (I still am, I didn't leave PASS) i was..and are.. cared for.
Honeslty, it was pass that made me be ok somedays.
But why PASS and not my friends? Because a month after I was in treatment. I called my friends, I sat them together and I told them I was sorry for being depressed sometimes, I told them I was diagnosed with depression, that was taking pills and I would do my best.
You know what they did? They forgot about me. They left me alone. No one cared really. More months passed by. I was depressed, and when i say it..it's not just "sad".. it's the worst feeling, hopeless, numb, forgoten. Like in a pit full of shit where only I lived.
My friends, weren't really my friends.. and i'm talking about my closes group of girls.. but yeah, no.. no one cared.
My therapist told me.. to let them go..but it hurt.
Now we come to today. I think i'm better somedays, somedays i'm not. I stoped going to therapy cause we started having fights and i realized we have different morals.I stoped taking the pill as well because I've read a lot of studies where it said that antidepressives actually makes people suicidal. Blah.. something must have been better about me that I didn't want to end up killing myself.
I don't know how i am now .....i'm in the middle, not ok, not that depressed.
My friends called me about 2 months ago, they sat near me and asked for forgivness.. they said they didn't know what to do, cause in the past i had always been the strong one between us.
I still can't forgive them about it, but we are together as a group, I still call them my friends, because they are the closes i have to it.
Other factors are in my life, like.. I've met some girls and guys at uni i really care for, I've met people at pass who I love.. my parents and family are actually another factor to hate being alive, but I'll talk about it some other time. I've met someone.. he is what i want. Though sometimes I feel i can't help him.
Some other times I feel he can't help me, cause he doesn't know about me. But at least he cares and loves me.
I can't remember what I was trying to say when i started wrting but. I think i just barely covered 2 years of my life..with just a few aspects of what happened.. but I felt like talking about them. some other time I'll cover abit more about those years, cause a lot has happened...
Well....bye...i guess...
