So many things happened.
My sis broke my laptop with a knife.
There was a family shouting and scolding session.
I was being blamed.
I was hit.
I slammed the door.
I am the black sheep.
I went to bed.
Cried. And cried. I couldn’t fall asleep.
So many thoughts flying everywhere in my mind.
My body was restless.
I had a bad headache.
I cried some more.
I fell asleep with tears streaming down my cheeks.
I remember curling up, covering my ears like a child from a fight happening outside the bedroom door. Horrible things said.
I remember trying to force myself to sleep. I remember my thoughts of suicide, of leaving the house, of never coming back. They could say whatever they want. But I don’t want any part of it. I don’t want to hurt like this.
I started building a wall around, inside. Cause I don’t want to feel such deep hurt again. But every time, something happens. A little of my wall crumbles to dust.
I realize how fragile I am. I start to put titanium in. Numb my heart. Think of all the negative way of leaving my pain behind. So many dark thoughts. I was draining myself out. I knew the repercussions were going to be huge. Especially the next few days. If I even woke up, after praying for my death.
I did wake up in the afternoon. I tried to get out of my house as fast as I could before last night caught up with me.
I went to boulder with Lela and then went for dessert and dinner. We talked, laughed a little. Though my laugh is pretty surface, I can’t help it. My heart is drained from the pain and… I’m drained. Emotionally and physically. Pushing my limits for running and climbing and being me.
I’m just not good enough for anyone. Not my family, not for a lover, not for myself.
I don’t think I’ll ever be. Not with everyone putting me down time and time again.
I wonder just how much more I can take. After all, you can’t force a jar to contain more than it should can you?