I know it's not your fault but that doesn't make me any less of a big whiny baby.

Demasiado.

The split ends of my thoughts need trimmed. I've let them grow for too long.

I am tired of feeling guilty and scared and tired. What are these pills supposed to do for me? They're not working. I still hate being alive.

I have no more metaphors for you, blog. Not today. Just the raw honesty of a girl who sometimes wishes she were dead.

I'm not sure why things can be this way, but they always make me uncomfortable.

I'm shifting uncomfortably on creaky wood floors. You moved everything four inches to the left. I keep bumping my hips on the furniture. The wall is always too cold against my back when all I want is to keep warm.

Todo cambia, pero no estaba lista para esto.

If my therapist were to take a look at my life over the past couple of weeks, he would tell me that  I was improving. I swallow my pills in the morning without a fuss. I go to class in the morning, and I go to sleep at night. I socialize. I do my homework. I go to work. I live.

And I want to tell him I'm doing all of this. I want to tell him, I went out a few times this week with my boyfriend. I saw my friends a few times on campus. I went to all of my classes. I took a pill every morning, just like my psychiatrist told me to do. I want to tell him all of this because I want someone on this planet to believe that I'm getting better. I need someone on this planet to believe I'm getting better.

What I can't tell him is that when I wake up in the morning, sometimes I just wish my body wouldn't bother doing so. I wake up with inexplicable aches and pains that come from a night of bone-chilling worry. What I can't ever tell him is that, when I take my ten milligrams, one Lexapro every morning, I sometimes dump the whole bottle of pills in my hand and I wonder how many it would take to make me numb.

I put them all back in the bottle though. I will always put them back. Isn't that what counts?

I want to tell him that I laugh often. I want to tell him I appreciate good food and good music, and I want to tell him that I love and am loved in return. That helps me a lot, being loved, and not just by Isaias but by friends and family too.

But I can't tell him that sometimes I laugh because silly is who I know how to be. Sometimes I am hungry, but sometimes I am so disgusted with my life that I wish I could stop eating and vanish out of existence. Sometimes I listen to music and it pisses me off that beautiful things exist and I still feel the way that I feel.

I want to tell him that I'm learning another language, but I don't want him to know that sometimes I talk to myself in Spanish because it's the only way to slow my brain down enough not to hate myself. I'll say that I have been sleeping, but what I won't tell him is that the mere act of being alive is almost too hard for me to keep doing. I'll tell him the truth: I am not suicidal, but I am still tired of living the life that I was given.

If God were real, he'd be a sick fucker.

I want to tell my therapist that I need help, but I need someone to believe that I'm okay. It's not rational. I'm going to a therapist to help me, and I know that he cannot help me if I don't tell him how many times per day I wish that I'd existing and be erased from the memory of the world. I know he cannot help me if he doesn't know. But if he doesn't know, then maybe someone will think me okay. He deals with people all day who don't know how to help themselves. I'll be just another work-burden to him.

I don't think I'll ever be okay.

la ancla no trabaja

No puedo enfrentarme con la ansiedad mía. Me duele, me duele tanto. A veces, mi vida parece perfecta y todo trabaja a mi favor... pero muchas veces me despierto sin esperanza o felicidad. Estoy cansada, pero es un cansacio que se extiende más allá mis párpados y toca mis huesos.

Es dificil encontrar la paz en un mundo que nunca para girar. Es imposible que yo recupere el aliento cuando nada siente bien y la vida es demasiada. Pensé que lágrimas debería hacerte más fuerte. Pensé que el dolor y la congoja que he luchado sería suficiente para una buena vida, posiblemente con amor y éxito.

Pero no fue correcta. Pienso en morir cuando el aire es silencioso y me siento el sangre de mis venas y mi corazón cuenta los segundos, cada segundo significa un segundo más cerca de morir.

Mi cerebro es roto. La vida destruyó mi pobre cerebro. Espero que mañana se duela menos que hoy.

I'm too dependent on you. 

I had to stop myself several times today from texting you with this nonsense I've got floating around in my head. Being here is disrupting my entire world and I feel like I'm about to crash and burn.

I always look at you to calm me down and it's not fair to you, but it's not fair to me either. Somehow I managed without you once, so somewhere in my life I developed coping skills.

I need to try to find some of who I was before I met you. You bring out the very best in me, and I'll always love you for that. I just unfairly expect you to take the worst of me and cast it aside while I do nothing. That's not fair.

I don't know how to be myself in college. I think I missed the window for friendship. People are already close and I'm never here to form bonds with people. It makes being here incredibly lonely. It kind of hurts, being here.

I also don't know how to manage my course load. All I think about every single day is when is this due how do I get that done oh god what does this mean when can I do that - 

Stop.

I need to breathe. I am tucking myself in early tonight and buckling down tomorrow. I can't do anymore tonight.

ojo

Vivir la vida es difícil cuando tienes que tomar medicación para seguir adelante.

No sé qué quiero decir, y todo parece extraño. Vivir en campus es un nuevo mundo, y es un cosa difícil para mi. A todas horas de la noche, puedo escuchar carros y conversaciones fuera de mi ventana. Es emocionante, y mi cerebro reconoce que es emocionante. El problema es que quiero pertenecer aquí pero no sé cómo. Cómo puedo sentir como un parte de la universidad cuando no sé hablar con otras personas?

Necesito estudiar pero no tengo la motivación.

Repost

Estoy en la universidad, y no sé nada. 

Everything about who I am has changed drastically over the past few weeks. 

1. I don't live at my house anymore.

2. I now spend nights with Isaias.

3. I'm responsible for myself most of the day. 

4. I am on anti-anxiety medication.

5. I'm in school again.

They're really little statements, but it's hard to believe that my entire life has turned inside out since three weeks ago. 

My anxiety medication is working wonders on my hypochondria, but it isn't helping at all with how much I worry about other things. Maybe that is because it can't fix the deep-rooted insecurities I hold that I will drift apart from my friends or that Isaias will leave me. 

It's just a little too much to deal with right now. Time to retreat.