Gutted

This past week has been emotional. Last weekend was a difficult anniversary, and I also ended up missing a trip that I had been looking forward to for months. I found myself letting down close friends and also found myself caught in a major clusterfuck between two friends. I am treating my best friends like shit, and I am ignoring other people who had been previously frequent guest stars in my life. I’m pushing people away, which is crazy because I feel alone as fuck.

As I type up these words, tears are streaming down my face, and I don’t even know how to stop them. Truthfully, I don’t even know if I want to stop them.

I feel gutted. I feel entirely gutted and ripped to shreds. Every essence of me has spilled out of my opened wounds, and I sit here an empty shell of a person. I feel like an impostor-Eunice is walking around, living my life.

I can’t make heads or tails of what’s going on within myself. I feel the world pulling at me from different directions, and I feel helpless.

I look around my room to see all the wonderful things I own, things I am entirely undeserving of and things that remind me of memories that leave me feeling empty and cold. I see pictures of people who are no longer part of my life and of people I keep pushing away from me. It is truly a blessing so many people have stuck by my side all these years of mood swings and unwarranted nastiness. I feel disgust rising up my throat.

My chest can barely contain all this self-loathing. And while I’m entirely aware of the ridiculousness of having such little self-worth, I can’t help but feel utterly lost.

I’ve said over and over how difficult April, especially, is for me, but somehow I thought it would be okay. I thought this year, I would escape without a scrape.

But I’m sitting on my bed, staring at the scars that seem even more prominent than before, staring at the old scars that never healed, staring at the new scars wondering why God, why? I want to vomit out everything I’ve eaten in the last two weeks years, to free myself from the heaviness that keeps building at the pit of my stomach.

I don’t know how I can feel both empty and completely stuffed at the same time.

There is one emotion (other than the self-loathing) that I can identify.

I feel angry.

I’m mad.

I’m not sure why. I’m not sure what this anger is directed at; I just know I feel it.

I want to listen to the advice from Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on love and life from Dear Sugar by Cheryl Strayed and opt to “transcend – to rise above or go beyond the limits of – rather than living inside the same old tale.”

In spite of all the hurt, pain, and scars I’ve endured, I want to opt out of continuing that cycle. I want to fucking heal. I want to be better than what is expected of me. I don’t want to hurt other people, especially not those I care so deeply about.

Most of all, I don’t want keep hurting myself. And I haven’t even begun to uncover the scars I’ve inflicted, myself.

xx

e

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2 Comments

  1. Dreamin. I adore blogging. You all express your feelings the right way, because they’re your feeling, focus on your weblog it really is fantastic.

    Reply
  1. Not Over It | Simply Beautiful

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