Torn in two directions ?

I’ve been feeling kind of torn lately, like both the parts of me want the opposites.

I’m happy, happier than I’ve been in such a long time, and I’m facing a new fear, a fear of the end of my new found happiness, and the only challenge I have is with myself, the part of me whispering in the back of my mind “Do it, it helps.. Just a little deeper.. Leave everything behind.. Come on, it’s what everyone is expecting from you, they don’t need you.”

It takes advantage of my fears, makes me more insecure and doubtful.

I know what is right for me, what I’m expected to do, and what I shouldn’t do, but sometimes even the most sane thought seems insane, it seems so wrong, and it ends with me doubting everything, freaking out, becoming in such a bad mood where I can’t even make the easiest decisions on my own.

Like I can’t even decide if I should go on a walk, I could spend an hour just sitting there thinking about it. It doesn’t matter if I want to go on that walk, no matter what reasons there may be for me wanting to go out.

I usually go out on walks when I have to clear my head, when it’s better to feel empty and hollow than to be in constant confusion and emotional pain, but then again the voice tries to stop me from going out, tries to convince me to take the easy way out, permanently or just by harming myself.

And yes I do give in some times, or I used to, but hopefully I’m over it, I really hope I am, so that it could stop others from worrying about me doing it, and by them not worrying, I would feel much better about myself, then I didn’t disappoint them again.

Usually when I write, I start in my head with sentences before I pick up my computer to write them down before I start writing, and as you’ve probably noticed, I’ve suddenly changed the subject, I do that when I can’t figure out what more to write, like someone just hit the delete button and my head went blank. So I’m sitting here kind of puzzled wondering what my next move will be, how I’m supposed to finish up this post, but no matter how puzzled I get, I always manage to finish up what I’ve started, but only when it comes to writing though.

I wish everything could come as easily to me as writing, it would make everything so much easier, and a hell of a lot simpler to cope with.

When I write I write my emotions out, I make them make sense in some way, I figure out what started it, what set me off, or I just write them out to get rid of them.

It’s my way of escaping, I get lost in a world of words, my own words, where I decide what happens next, wither what I write makes sense or not. So maybe that’s why it’s so much easier to write for me than it is to talk, like I have some sort of control when I write, and when I talk I don’t? I don’t know, but I do know that writing is safer.

They say that the pen is sharper than the sword, and that’s actually true, because if someone stabbed you, or hit you, it would hurt, it would begin to heal until it was gone, but if someone writes something to you, with your name on it for everyone to see, that is cruel, mean and god knows what, it hurts, it hurts inside, and that new wound will take forever to heal, or maybe it won’t heal at all.

I guess those of you who have already been reading my blog for a while would think of my earlier post “Fuck you drama”, and see a connection there to this one, and yeah maybe there are, but I’m not defending myself, because there’s no need to do so, I wrote about someone who meant a lot to me, but betrayed me in the worst way possible just for the sake of attention. But then again, I didn’t write anything mean or cruel, all I did was explaining how I felt about it.

I might have hurt her by writing it, but I really had no intentions to do so, and if I did I’m sorry, but at least I’m sorry about what I did.

This is me





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