“I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo”

It wasn’t until I finally gathered enough courage to attend a local support group that I realised how truly alone I am. And why should I be surprised, irony could be my middle name. Seeing concerned parents come without their children, because they don’t know how to help made me realise that nobody in my life would take one step out of their comfort zone to be there for me. The parents who were worried because their 29 year old daughter hasn’t spoken to them in a while…. made me realise my family hasn’t once called me up or texted me to check in, even though they know I was at an extreme low. They just don’t care. My boyfriend is lying to himself that he is there for me. Every time I show weakness (my true feelings), it is too much for him and he almost breaks up with me… and then he doesn’t understand why I feel like I have to hide anything from him, so when I show feelings again… “he gives me space” — but who is the space really for?

If you saw a person drowning in the river, would you walk past them to give them space? What are they all giving me space for? Space to die in? Space to cry myself to sleep? – must be nice to believe your own words, because to me that just seems like another affirmation that I have to hide everything. My life is nothing more but a masquerade.

It is such a terrible feeling realising how truly alone you are when life gets rough. Maybe if I drink enough of this wine, it can all go away… at least for a night.

 

 

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