I’m Merely Existing

bampw-ballerina-beautiful-black-swan-Favim.com-907365So here I am…sitting in the living room, watching a 4-hour documentation about Karl Lagerfeld and trying to plan 8 group therapy sessions for some obese patients, which I really can’t be bothered with right now, to be totally honest.

I can’t concentrate and my mind’s wandering all over the place. For the last 2 months I’ve been constantly feeling sick and sleepy….simply exhausted.
I don’t know if anyone else can relate, but I’ve been suffering from very low blood sugar levels. I constantly have to eat, otherwise I quickly get jittery and queasy.
I can’t work out anymore, because of that….I just feel to weak. And as if all this wasn’t enough I started having cardiac arrhythmias and tremors again.
Oh…and did I mention the anxiety attacks?

It’s just horrible. Most of the time, although I had a lot of anxiety attacks, I at least felt safe at home or when I was with people I really trust and love. But that’s not working anymore. Even at home I can feel this imminent feeling of anxiety creeping up inside of me and no matter where I go, it never eases.

It honestly breaks my heart that I can’t be with people the way I want to be….physically I’m there, but I’m weak and sick and mostly bad-tempered and mentally I’m so far away, that most of the time, I can’t remember more than the two last sentences of the conversation.
When I’m with D. I feel like a burden and a failure every tme…..I love being with him and spending time with him, but even in situations I used to feel safe with him, I now feel vulnerable and sick.
And I just can’t believe that he still wants to be with me, although I’m such a catastrophe. He so sympathetic towards me and supports me with his pure presence in a way, that no other person ever did.

How ironic, that I can’t really be with him the way I want to be….that I find the most consolation and safety in a person (again) who will never truly be mine. Apparently I tend to torture myself…and I seem to be loving it….unfortunately.
I don’t believe in true love anymore, I don’t believe in marriage and being with one person for the rest of my life…but the one thing I believe in is that people can support you in a lot of ways, and give you love (physically, emotionally…etc) right when you need it the most…and that can make them a part of your life forever…because they have a place in your heart and not in your bed or on your couch…or with a ring on their finger.

These people, not my family or my friends, were the ones who supported me the most and helped me to feel alive….especially in times when I felt I was merely existing.

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He’s My Person! Part 1

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Every since I met him a bit over a year ago, I’m constantly asking myself the same questions over and over again:

“Am I a bad person?”….”Is he a bad person?”….”Are we both indifferent to our own, and other people’s emotions and feelings?” And the only answer I can come up with is “Yes…we probably are!”.

I grew up in an intact family. I never saw my parents having a fight or any other issues in general. I know that every couple have their certain problems now and then, but they always stuck together and they gave me the feeling, that my family was a save haven…a place where morals were of a certain value, and they still are.

My entire childhood, I considered marriage and being together with the same person for the rest of your life an unalterable fact. Everyone would find their “person”…I would some day find a man who was good enough for me to marry, to have children and build a house with….to live happily ever after.

But then, everything changed, when I started to have feelings for a guy who should have been totally out of bounds for me. Because I had moralities….yes I did….and I would act accordingly. At least that was, what I kept desperately telling myself.

When I first found out that he was married and had two children, I hated my guts….I hated his guts…I hated everyone’s guts. I hated myself for being stupid enough and trying to believe that he, at the age of 33, would wondrously, still be single or at least….uhm….divorced…widowed….pretty please?. For God’s sake…one look at him and I knew that he wasn’t any of such things.

I hated his guts because he flirted with me, talked to me, brought me tea and coffee, touched me slightly every time he walked by….and looked at me with his fucking bedroom eyes. He was a dirtbag…he was just like all the other guys who thought so little of women and fancied themselves so much, that they thought they could play their stupid games with them, and then just move on to the next…while their wives stayed at home and took care of the children, unaware of their husbands’ extramarital activities.

I tried to hate him. I really did. And I kept avoiding him for half a year, thinking that he’d stop trying to be nice, like “these kind of guys” usually do and would move on to look for another girl. But he didn’t.

Instead, one day, when I was on my way to the women’s restroom, I accidentally ran into him, in a dimly lit hallway. After the door had closed behind me with a loud bang, I realized that I couldn’t avoid him any longer. The hallway was so narrow that he (stupid broad shoulders…and everything….damn) completely blocked my way.

Before I could say or do anything, he kissed me. That was half a year ago…and the beginning of our “relationship”. And now, he’s my person…not the person I will marry….but the person I’d call if I had to find someone help me drag a corpse across the living room floor. He’s my person.

Christmas Gruesomeness

Christmas…Christ.Mas….
Why do I always feel like, on any kind of holiday or my birthday, I start feeling particularly depressed and sad in a kind of pathetic way?

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So far, I wasn’t able to come up with a fully coherent answer, while sitting with my messed up parents and my slightly senile grandmother in our totally undecorated living room…merely, to get drunk and to unwrap the same gifts every year.
The shower gel you’re never going to use, the 10oooth cozy cotton towel or a maxi-pack of anything Milka-ish that I’m just going to eat up during a depressive episode between January and next December (despite my lactose intolerance), only to have a crying fit shortly after, questioning my undisciplined behavior and my body fat percentage.

I just think on days like these, I become very aware of how messed up I am. Any kind of holiday intensifies my subjective discomfort and my feeling of being alone, in a kind of way that makes it impossible for me to think straight.
I always feel alone and cut out….regardless of whether I’m really alone and cut out or surrounded by friends and family. Continue reading

Role Conflict aka “The Hoe”

Everybody’s gotta live up to certain social roles in life, right?
We’re are daughters, sons, (girl/boy)friends, mothers, sisters, students and so much more…life is like a theater play or a movie, we act, we lie, we wear certain masks and costumes to disguise who we really are even if it’s just to be liked by people, to be accepted…or even to make sure, that we’re, at least, not being hated.

And sometimes this play’s comic, sometimes tragic and most of the time, it’s both.

When it comes to me…I’ve been playing quite a few roles lately, that I’m not really happy with, and even less proud of.
One of the roles that I never thought I’d ever have is…”The Hoe”…as I like to call it. Other people would probably just consider me a “lover”, an “affaire” or whatever terms you can come up with to describe the fact that I slept with a man who’s in a relationship….not just once, but multiple times, over the last couple of months.
I got there after his housemate went to work and left early in the morning before he was coming back from his night shift….no one was allowed to see me….they could tell someone, especially his girlfriend, of course he never told me that, but I knew it right from the beginning, that he was struggling pretty badly to keep the whole thing secret.
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Just.Not.Good.Enough…

I’m not really happy with myself at the moment.
Although I guess when other people look at me they don’t really know what my damn problem is. School has been going quite well recently and I’m definitely going to be there next year. Yes I made it and I worked my ass off to get this far. The thing is, that’s what others think….my parents, my friends. Of course, I’m happy too, but again…not really. I’m not satisfied with myself. I’m always looking at myself in the mirror going “You could have done better! You could’ve worked harder. Why did your grades average out at 2.2 (B) and not 1.8….or like you friend’s at 1.4 (A)? You.Are.Not.Good.Enough. Period!”

Momentarily, it’s like every single aspect of my life is just there to show me, that I have a serious problem. If I had to name said problem it’d probably be: “Girl, you have serious self-esteem issues and everyone around you enjoys the fact that you let them shove it right back down your throat every time you think you could finally get somewhere in life.”
Yeah…that’s probably it.
And what’s even worse about the whole situation is, that I can’t even tell if it’s me…or if I’m not, in fact, just simply surrounded by assholes ö.Ö I guess it’s a bit of both.

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Song Of The Week #1 – “My Life Changed” by William Fitzsimmons

A couple of days ago I stumbled upon William Fitzsimmons, a singer-songwriter from Jacksonville, Illinois.
On some website I read an article where he was considered “equal parts songwriter and psychotherapist”…which sounds absolutely legit to me 🙂
To be honest…this song kinda caught me off guard…considering my bad experiences involving car accidents and loved ones, this made me cry…and nevertheless, it also made me think of all the good times we had together.
A strange thing, that only music can do 🙂

And I Still Want You

Photography Graphics, Tumblr Photography

Dear M.

It’s been 10 ten years, since we met for the first time. Me…an inconspicuous, chronically sick, almost anorexic-looking girl, you….a chubby kid with a habit to annoy everyone around you….including me. Now, for you it’s not about ripping the pages out of my book, or cutting my hair off with a pair of scissors anymore (because at that time, no one was supposed to notice that you liked me), instead you chose to rip my heart out and trample on it, after 6 years of telling me that you loved, cared for and would always be there for me.  You took a part of me, that I’m never gonna get back and now, this hole in the middle of me seems like a huge black abyss that every happy thing just falls into. Continue reading