Getting Over It October 28, 2009

How do I get over something?

I simply forget. I don’t mind it.  I laugh it off.

That’s the way to go.

For instance, I see your name highlighted in YM and it makes me cringe that you’re not clicking mine, but I simply brush it aside.

I never expect to talk to you ever again, much less to see you again and I shouldn’t: you’re gone anyway.

I guess the difference between now and then is that I will not let this loneliness win this time.

I’m putting my foot down.

My life will be a success story because I want it to be.

Monologue October 9, 2009

You have to let him go.

I know, but I know no other way but this.

He’s far away now, silent now, not yours now.

But how do I live not loving him?

That’s between you and the stars.

I keep dreaming of him, 3 nights in a row now.

Your heart is on a rampage you have to stop.

It won’t hold still and silent, but it will wait, it will wait, it will wait.

This is no way to live and you know that.

I tend to live in my dreams now.

Is there any progress?

Yes. My heart already knows that it cannot be. I will rearrange my universe again, to make way for his passing away from me.

Where Are We? May 10, 2009

My psychiatrist again discussed my dual diagnosis with me: borderline personality disorder and clyclothymic or schizoaffective.

I’d give anything to not be borderline. He said that personality disorders are the hardest to treat because you have deep psychological issues that, in contrast to schizophrenia, are not responsive to medication.

So how do I cure myself? I don’t know.

I asked him sometime ago if I’ll still be his patient even if I’m a psychiatrist already, and he said probably.

Oh man.

—

I’m starting to dissociate from you already. And I feel like that’s a good thing, in the long run.

No more weeks and nights waiting for you. No more heartache and sorrow.

I am stable now, and I don’t want to ruin it.

—

Here I go again, a few hours later and I’m in despair again. I said I was stable this morning, but now, I’ve fallen through the cracks again.

This is a shitty way to exist. That’s all I can say. I hate being borderline. I hate it with a vengence because it makes me ruin relationships, makes me susceptible to abusive ones and lastly, I push people away when I want them to stay.

It’s a never-ending struggle to be normal. It doesn’t end anywhere. And it leads to some form of elusive stability that will last for some days (or months) only. Then you’re back to square one again.

I’ve cried this all out. There’s no more room for tears anymore.

I don’t know.

I don’t know how my future will turn out.

I See You In… May 8, 2009

Every breath I take, every bird that sings, every new day.

I’m a scavenger for love.

I’m a candidate for being broken again.

However, I’m used to waiting for things to come, never pre-empting anything at all.

“So I wait and I wait, and I run old scenes through my tired head…”

—

I’m seeing my psychiatrist on Sunday because of the depressive episode I had yesterday.

I’m hoping that he has some sort of magic up his sleeve. Maybe up my Lamictal? I don’t know. All I know is I experienced shit yesterday that I haven’t experienced in the two and a half years since I was medicated and diagnosed. It was too much to bear. All I did was cry and lock myself in the bathroom again.

I used to be that way pre-medication. Now I don’t know why it’s back with a vengeance. I don’t know why I shattered like I did.

Reminiscing May 3, 2009

Solid memories hit me like a hurricane.

Vivid scenes of the distant past haunt me now as I type out each crisp key.

There was you and I.

And that was all there is, and that was all that mattered before everything came crashing down.

You and I.

I play with the words on my tongue, rolling them around like bits of candy. Too sweet to be savored all at once. But over now. All over.

Now there’s just me.

Me and my fucking life without you.

Me and my fucking self bereft of you.

That’s the story of my life.

The Lone Wolf May 2, 2009

I’m alone at home.

Maybe I’ll go out drinking later.

My flight’s at 12:05 pa naman tomorrow for Bora eh. So it’s okay.

I’ve been feeling emotion-less for the past few days. Hence my short and boring posts.

There. That’s all I have to say. All my apprehensions and fears about the trip will be kept secret.

—

Painting gasoline rainbows with my fingertips, I feel you in: the dawn that breaks, the birds that fly, the moon that shines.

I will never be rid of you and I know this. You will forever be the one that got away.

Nothing, Nothing at All April 28, 2009

I feel really good today. A rush of endorphins from jogging earlier this morning. I love it.

I love how I feel.

I love the way I’m so in tune with everythig. I find it funny, even, that I’m so happy.

I’m jumping round from cloud to cloud.

Sitting Uncorrected April 25, 2009

I almost did something bad yesterday afternoon… Almost fell through the cracks again. But I had the willpower to stop it. I almost undid close to 6 months of hard work avoiding it. Almost. But it doesn’t matter now, because I didn’t do it.

—

I’m trying to unwind myself from your clumsy fingertips. I gotta stop myself from revolving around you. I can do it. I feel my willpower returning.

I can do it, I will do it.

Edited to Add: The silence bores a hole through my soul. The emptiness clings to the forgotten refuges of my senses. I cannot do this all alone anymore. I’m crying out for help as I am wrecking everything around me. I am calling out for help as I lie here all alone.

Who else will help me but myself? Indeed, I am alone in this masquerade.

—

I don’t know how to love. I need to be taught. I have to tell the people around me how sorry I am because I do not know how to love.

How do I best love anybody? Which do I give, freedom or restriction? Do I give my whole self? Definitely. Do I discriminate against the unsavory parts of other people? No. How then do I love? How must I love? Somebody must teach me.

Fading gray and ashen walls close in on me tonight. The nocturne is so hard to resist.

I’ll smile and say I’ll handle it better this time around. But it’s only for the benefit of people who want to hear it. Because, the truth is, I am still groping in the darkness; groping for a way to live this life. I am too weak even to raise my head and build a better me.