Hello there, beautiful being!
First, I’d like to apologize for the lack of content for the past month. Usually, I’ll write something in my head before eventually sitting down to actually write it down. One day in August, however, I completed a poem in my head, loved it, and then let procrastination prevent me from writing it down. Guess what my ADHD brain did. Of course, it forgot it. For the past month, I haven’t been able to write anything because my ADHD brain now has chosen to hyper focus on trying to remember that one poem.
My grandma’s death anniversary was two weeks ago, and in that time, life has become more unbearable. If you’re somebody close to me, you would have an idea on how much I adore her. She was my light, and my safe space. Since I was a child, I despised my life, and she was the only thing that kept me from going insane. I believed that as long as I had her, I could endure anything. Even though she never explicitly stated that she loved me, I have no doubt that she did. Since words failed me, I’ll never know if she understood how much she means to me, but I certainly hope she did. Even when she was still alive, I never went a day without thinking about her. Ever since I lost her, my mind has been weighed down by constant memories of her. The realization that my grief would last forever was, surprisingly, acceptable. That’s further proof of how much I care for her, and I certainly wouldn’t apologize for my feelings and the way I love. Still, I long for a day, even just one, when it hurts less. I could use some break.
I got a new tattoo on the front of my lower leg last September 4th. An impulsive choice, but the outcome satisfied me, so it’s all right. After discussing the proposed tattoo location with the artist, I went in search of a tattoo pain chart. The scale indicated it would be very painful, so I kind of hesitated a bit. Still, we pushed through, and it wasn’t nearly as painful as I had anticipated. The desire to get a tattoo was probably motivated by urge of self-harming. When I first began self-harming, I promised that I would only ever cut my left arm. For 14 years, I kept that promise. Early this year, I got a sleeve tattoo of very cute cats on my left arm as my resolve to never self harm again. I want to inflict more pain on myself for a brief moment of relief from all the suffering I’ve been experiencing recently. I don’t have it in me to hurt the cats, hence the decision to get a new tattoo.
I’ve been crying for hours as I write this. I received a text from my mother, which in retrospect wasn’t intentionally hurtful, but it still hurt me. The agony they inadvertently caused me in the past has all come flooding back. I already know how incapable of a person I am, and I didn’t need to be reminded of that. Although I tend to be quiet and even stoic at times, I feel the urge to cry out to her and tell her how much her words have hurt me. How I decided to live far from them, and rarely go home, because they’re a constant reminder of why I’m so miserable. How often I think about dying, how hard it is to get out of bed each morning, and how tiring it is to accomplish even the simplest tasks. How I can’t think about my dream, or about the next year, let alone next week, because I can’t even get through today. However, I couldn’t say that. I couldn’t say anything. Normally, I would say that I don’t want to hurt them, so I’d rather not say anything at all. Make it seem like I’m the bigger person. When in fact, all I am is a coward. What if I was the problem all along? What if I really was a worthless, unlovable person? I’m scared of the answers.
Simply put, I feel like absolute garbage right now. It hurts too much to continue existing. I know I need to take some action to make myself feel better. However, it seems hopeless, especially for someone who has been suffering for over two-thirds of their life.