I know I don't really owe you an explanation; I just wanted to get this out there into the world. When I made this account, I told myself that I would never post a journal that brought someone else down to read. Please don't read it if you're in a dark place yourself.
Last spring, something happened. My self-esteem was destroyed, I cried every day. That summer, I started withdrawing from people. In the fall, I started feeling very tired all the time. Sometimes, I could crawl into bed and fall asleep any time of the day. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten my energy back since. In the winter, I lost my desire to create art. I still have ideas and things that I want to do, but I just can’t draw or write much of anything unless given a huge incentive. It’s spring again, and now, I just feel dead. Every day, for a little while, I think about dying.
I spend my time throwing distractions at myself and never getting things done. When I’m distracted, I can be a little normal again. I haven’t spoken to several of my friends in months, and the ones that I see, I don’t open up to. Some of them have no idea that anything happened to me. One of them just saw me slowly turn into this bitter, disinterested person and probably thought that was who I really am. And I don’t care. I don’t want them to have to fix me because no person can. I don’t want to put someone through the irritating task of trying to hold me together when I don’t know how long it would take for me to heal. I don’t think I care about doing things with my friends anymore because I have nothing to offer emotionally. I kind of just want to be left alone.
I am supposed to be the strong one. People have always relied on me to encourage them and I’ve always tried. I’ve tried so hard to show other people that someone cares what they think and do and I’ve always tried to make friends with everyone because I know how it feels to be the person that nobody talks to. I always thought: if I never do anything great in life, I'll be OK, so long as I helped make someone's life worth living. It was my purpose in life, and I can’t do that anymore. And I’m so angry at the person who took that from me, but I feel horrible because I know it’s wrong to be bitter and angry and spiteful, but it makes me so mad that he still laughs and carries on like nothing has happened and so much of what I loved to do has been ruined for me. I don’t feel like I have a future. I feel angry because I'm not the only one who was hurt, and more than anything, I want him to be held accountable for what he did to them. But maybe I'm supposed to move on? Everyone else seems to think so.
I don’t know how to be weak. I’ve never been this way before. I just want to climb back up again so I can do what I’ve always done, but I just can’t anymore. I don’t have anything left to give. I’m not useful anymore and I don’t believe I’ll ever be strong again. I don't want to be like this. I didn't want anyone to know, but I've kept it to myself for months and now I just want to have some sort of validation that what I'm feeling is normal, -even if it means I have to grab at attention on the internet.
Everyone in my life wants me to work for something whether it’s for myself or the future or for someone else, but I don’t want to do anything anymore. I spend my time trying to find distractions and I never get anything substantial done, and no one understands why I don’t want to do anything else. I don’t want to live like this, I really don’t.
No, I’m not suicidal. I will never put my mom through that.