Perdida en el caos...

I don't know why I feel so numb. It doesn't make any sense. I guess I just sorta feel like at some point in the past I died. Things hurt. I hurt.

I've been crying randomly. It doesn't make sense, because I've been a lot happier than I have been. Maybe it's for things long lost, maybe it's because I don't know what happened to my life. I don't know where I went, where that essence that is solely me went. Where I went wrong. Where I lost myself. I just feel so empty inside. Like I am living through my experiences, rather than living, and experiencing things. It is very lonely here.

It's not Jon's fault. There are times where I think I made a mistake. Where I think he would be better off without me. That he's too good to be true. Too good for me. That sooner or later, this is going to turn out like so many other times.

I am tempted to destroy myself before anything else, or anyone else, can. 89 pounds sounds perfect. Drugs, alcohol, sex, food (or lack thereof). It's almost like killing myself, whether it is through killing my morals, my mind or my body is the only way I can feel alive.

I don't know how to explain these things, these feelings, these sides of me, that are raging in my mind. I just want some peace. It's like everything is turmoil. Everything is pain. Everything is all the things I've been fighting to be free of. And I don't know how to deal with it anymore.

I just want to give up. I guess I still sorta feel like I'm trying to care about myself by proxy: I keep myself around people that care about me.

There are so many things that are left unsaid, unwritten. That I can never find the breath or words to say. I want to scream, but I'm afraid if I start, I will never stop. There are parts of me that are always crying, and I try to keep them shut up, locked away, but at times the walls wear thin, and their tears leak from mine. My body yearns to bleed as my soul does; my flesh longs to burn like my mind. My core feels cold, and I wonder if breath will ever be a relief rather than a sad reminder that my earthly being has yet to follow my heart.

I just want this to be over. I want to stop aching. But how can you numb the numbness? Quench the thirst for fire?

Jon says he has only opened up to a couple of people. I have none. I mean, Stewart knew some stuff, as did David, and Carrie, and now Jon. But I haven't told anyone more than a bucket's worth, when it's full of holes, compared to this stormy ocean I hold inside.

If thoughts could kill, I would have died a long time ago.