Its been too long since I've written anything remotely personal on this blog. As much as vlog or voice recordings might be trendy, I find I'm more insightful when I write. It's like my own session of therapy where I recall and try to find some healing in what I write.
I'm broken, inside... I might even be dead inside. What scares me the most is how utterly calm I am when I say that. Its like it's not even a shock to me anymore. Saying it out loud just validates how I feel inside. Been hurt so bad i guess.. by so many different people. Same story just different tune. I set myself up to be hurt i guess. I thought i'd let go of the past years ago but it seems, I keep holding on to it because some how it makes me feel. My pain validates my being alive. Nobody saw me through that pain. I guess I keep it close to remind me that i'm alive or at least, i was...
I thought I'm okay that I'm fine. But when I read something that pertains to my past, I cry. Buckets. The pain feels very real at that moment. Its like reliving the exact same moment when I first felt that pain. I feel like screaming and it feels like I have one last breath every time. I just don't know which one will be my last. I just want to run away. Go some place no one knows me.
How can start dreaming about branches when my roots are all rotten and dying?
Friday, September 21, 2012
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