Sad thought from a happy day?


Today I went out with my Lilly, her boyfriend and her nephew(and boy, has he grown!!). We saw the new Spiderman movie. I wish I could’ve heard Michael Keaton’s real voice instead of the French dub, but what d’you want? We’re not in Lille. The €€€ fly but your 20170715_122537-1expectations can DIE. Not really kidding, but you can laugh! I do cos it’s saaaad 😦

Everything was fine until we sat in the cinema and they started chatting together and I was left with my thoughts and the darkness(not really at first but it already felt like it).

[ I will try and be as short as I can because I am tired right now and at home. Honestly, as much as I’d have lots to say and write, I can’t just spend my time on a computer/phone. I take pictures and post them when the internet allows it but even if it means not doing anything or simply staring at my mom all day, I’m spending as little time as needed on the internet. ]

And as I sat there, she started speaking; that voice that just knows not how to lift me up. I tried to fight it and keep busy, devour my popcorn before the screen is even turned on, stare at the ceiling, listen to my friends’ conversations… But nothing worked. She just talked and talked. She put me down. She did not hit where it hurts, on those swollen bits of me I’m used to pressing on whenever the challenges get a bit too heavy and I fall. She hit on one of the biggest insecurities of mine… And that is, the stupid storm.

That voice wasn’t telling me how bad a friend I am, how boring, nor how I’ve been looking fatter lately, how I might not be as strong as I thought. No, she did not mention any of those things, because they weren’t so important at that time. The storm was the real thorn on the sole of my foot which I had to push deeper in, jump on and torture myself with.

She was telling me how weak I was.

Just a moment of slight darkness and I was gone, gone with the winds of despair and self-loathe. All it told me was “Look at you, the movie’s not even started yet and you’ve already let your thoughts flood you and drown you. Just a minute in and you’ve been reduced to a quiet piece of shit, and nobody even notices.”

I wasn’t putting the blame on my friends for not noticing me getting quieter and slowly fading in the background, it was all on me.

And the worst part was that, with all this already heavy enough bullshit in me came a crippling guilt which glued me to my seat. How could I be feeling bad and having all these thoughts run through my head while I was with my best friend and expected to be all about the good time? How could I just start thinking of myself and let sadness fill me while sitting next to my best friend whom I love and whose presence just completes me? I just felt bad for feeling bad, which is a feeling I’m sure a lot of people can relate to. And it sucks.

I had all these racing dark thoughts, sad ones and those mean ones pressing on my other weaknesses. But this voice was the loudest, the narrator of that afternoon. Because that’s what it was doing, narrating with acid words the mayhem in me as I sat near my dear best friend and her close ones.

And maybe the reason why I couldn’t fight it is because I agreed with it. The voice was right. I was being assaulted by those razor-sharp thoughts while there was still light in the room and I wasn’t on my own.

I don’t think that I can enjoy going to the movies anymore.

And that’s how I came to this conclusion.

I used to enjoy this because it was a way to keep me completely distracted from the bullshit inside and outside but just like a lot of things, it seems it’s not enough anymore to anesthetize my restless self. So maybe I should just stop going. I can still watch movies at home and it’ll be just the same but with more food! 😛

But really though, it sucks to pay so much money to sit in a dark room full of strangers enjoying a movie while you’re just melting on your seat and having multiple life crises at once. I can still enjoy it but it leaves me so messed up. And I feel even more alone like this, because I’m trapped in myself and no one can possibly know and it physically hurts.

Is it worth it?

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“help i had a good time”

It took me about thirty to forty-five minutes to get somewhat focused on the movie rather than my thoughts and hands. Just like it did, back when I still went to class, for me to calm down from my anxiety fits. It’s not as much a torture, honeslty. But it’s just not enjoyable, I’m so uncomfortable when this happens and I can’t escape. It’s actually pretty horrible.

So, yeah, this happened; again. I had a good time. I had a good afternoon. I was with my best friend and on the ride back home, even though I wasn’t feeling so well and quiet as fuck, she managed to make me smile and laugh and speak.

It was good but it was also really bad. And as happy a day it was, all it leaves me with, sadly, is this thought: I don’t think I can enjoy simple things anymore because I’m a wreck. I’ll try to hold on to the light of this day and the smiles and the good. But I seem to have discovered that brains tend to focus on the bad memories, or maybe that’s just me.

Everything is exaggerated in this 5″2 factory and well, I’m tired; I don’t want to type anymore.

That’s gonna be it. Longer than I thought it’d be, but I’m a fast-typer! 😛

Until next post, just, breathe. ❤

 

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What am I to others?


Does my existence affect others’ life as much as theirs can affect mine? I  hold on a lot to people, whether it be strangers, half-strangers or people somewhat close to me. Like that one guy I used to see every time I ate at my university’s cafeteria last year or just a few people I go to class with.

But they aren’t aware of that, they don’t know that by simply existing they help me fight on, breathe a little longer. When I’m feeling “down” (to put things in simple terms), when going through another day sounds very near impossible, these people actually lift me up without doing nothing but being alive. I can get out of bed and think “oh, it’s okay, I’ll be sick at school but at least I will see duck/I will be with duck“(not real ducks, just cooler than “xxx”) or “I don’t really feel like going out but if I walk I’ll see ducks when I’ll cross the park and that’s awesome”(real ducks, real fucking ducks everywhere).

Familiar faces and familiar voices. I suppose that this is why it helps, because it’s the same, always, it’s something that seem to stay constant and it feels good. It feels good to know that I will see the same face even in a Monday’s hell; it feels like I’m not alone even though that person probably doesn’t see me at all. It can sound silly or maybe even sad but as long as it keeps me fighting it shouldn’t matter, I guess. I hold on to the fact that I can see the same face in a same place and even if it’s not enough to stop me from shaking, it still helps me be there no matter how much I dread the moment my mind will start freaking out.

And, lately I’ve been wondering, am I like that for anyone? Do I matter this much to anyone? Am I the reason someone gathers strength to get out of bed every morning to go somewhere where they hope they’ll see me? Could I be someone’s motivation? Could my existence be the thin thread someone out there holds on to in some way or another? Am I someone’s reason to smile? Do I bring some kind of light into anyone else’s life and how bright is it? I can hardly conceive such an idea, but hey, it’s not impossible.

I can’t help but wonder if it’s the same for other people. I wonder if I’m the reason someone goes to school everyday, if I’m the reason someone keeps fighting. It sure feels nice to think that you could be someone’s (far away) light in the dark, makes you feel worth something. But it surely feels unreal above all.

And then, if I do matter in this kind of way to anyone, I hardly believe that they would say it to me. I know I wouldn’t, because I don’t think it would make a difference to them to know it AND I’m scared they would stop being helpful if they become aware. So I’ll just keep wondering… What am I to them? What am I to you?
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