Lately I have been feeling tired
and empty. Again.
I get exhausted just by feeling
some emotions, even the slightest bit of happiness. I feel as I have been
faking myself without realising again. It is tiring to be fake. Like in one
point you are so full of emotions in front of people around you but the moment
you are left alone, you could feel a pang of emptiness and exhaustion weighing
down on you. It is really tiring. And the fact that even the smallest bit of
interaction could drain all my energy in one swoosh, I gotta say I need to be
alone.
Solitude.
Solitude has always been an
addiction to me. It’s addicting, and overwhelming. I am overwhelmed by the enthusiasm
I have in embracing the life of being alone. There are times when I will feel a
tad bit of loneliness but I usually will try my best to ignore the need
screaming in me. I have been so used of being alone – of soothing and bandaging
my own pain that even when my boyfriend tries to console me, I would push him
away until I manage to calm my own self. He does not like that part of me. He
does not like it when I isolate myself. Little did he know, I don’t like that
part of me either.
Pain.
I have become addicted to pain
again. Somehow pain has become the only thing that can make me feel. I do
things that would hurt me emotionally. Sometimes I would intentionally try to
start a fight with my man so I could just hurt myself again and believe how
terrible I am as a person. I failed most of the times. So I should find another
way to hurt myself. Like being a shitty friend to my good friends and tell
myself that I deserve to be left, to be forgotten. Some of my friends told me
not to always being alone as the thoughts overloaded in my mind could eat me
alive, but I couldn’t help myself. I’m addicted.
Demotivated.
Some of my friends know the fact
that I have lost my motivation in studying. I only talked about this to very
few people, perhaps one or two persons. For quite awhile, I have lost myself.
Is it because of the programme I’m taking? I don’t think so, I have always
loved English. At least I enjoy the language. Is it because of the pressure and
expectations I receive from people around me? Maybe, maybe not. I sincerely don’t
know. I feel bad for my parents for spending so much money on me to get me this
far but at one point in life, I’ve turned into a zombie – merely living for
whatever reason there is. I’m tired of figuring things out. Don’t tell me to
talk to my family about all these, I don’t have the privilege to open up about
all these stuff to them. They won’t understand, and they would not bother to
try. It will only get things worse.
Semicolon.
The semicolon is my reminder –
the reminder for me about how my life is not over yet. The meaning of a
semicolon makes me feel like there’s a small space for me to hope of something
good coming out from all these storms.
Maybe, just maybe, there is a Brightside.
Only time will reveal it.
“You can’t love me if you don’t love yourself”
– Love, 01/01/2019
