The excerpt probably misled you. because that is what this was meant to be.
But I apologise for what it has become.
I am a person so profoundly dissatisfied that I’m just mostly very pessimistic , very irritating and very confused .
And today in the beautiful , anxiety filled nauseating , suffocating day that I had, it was tougher than usual to recall the better things that have happened to me, the more satisfying moments of my life. not just because today was a bad day, but because most days are. and when I look back at the good times , all I can think of is how rarely they occur and how most of them will never occur again.
Like the last time a person told me I was perfect despite my imperfections .
Like the last time I didn’t think I would suffocate in a well aired room .
Like the last time I was with my family and we weren’t fighting .
Like the last time I rode my horse.
Like the last time I was with my dog.
Like the last time I saw my nephew .
Like the last time I was on stage with my departed school principal when she pinned my prefect’s badge on my lapel and spoke about leadership and responsibilities .
Like the last time I was on a podium speaking about democracy to a crowd of children who gave me thunderous applause .
Like the last time I believed in my self and didn’t keep trying to get myself to believe in my abilities because the voices in my head weren’t so loud.
Like the last time I was near the sea I and I breathed in the salty air and let the waves wash over me.
Like the last time I took my happiness for granted.
I am not an unhappy person. I’m not . I’m just the sort of person who has the highest levels of enthusiasm for things but then something happens to me.
I dont know what that thing is or what maoes it come.
Sometimes I think I’m crazy and I just blow things out of proportion because that’s what writers do and I’m just telling myself a horror story because my normal is boring.
It makes me afraid.
And I can see how much I lack and how much I need and I hate that I can’t ever be enough because I can barely even breathe and I know how dramatic this sounds but there is just something so wrong with me that I am good with words , I really am, but when I go to my therapist tomorrow and she asks me what happens I will summarise and forget what mattered most and when she asks me how I feel (it’s such and therapy question) I’ll be speechless because I feel like there is a sinking feeling in my stomach like I want to puke but I only retch. I feel like my willpower is crumbling and that there’s a bundle of worms crawling on my head and that I am overreacting but I have no clue what I am overreacting to . all I know is that suddenly I don’t feel like walking anymore . suddenly my skin feels like I have an itch I need to scratch.
I lie down and I can’t sleep.
I can’t even breathe without feeling the worms all over me and wanting to cut open my skull to pour cool water on it or to sit on a bed of cactus to distract myself from the pictures flashing in my brain .
You probably haven’t read death of a salesman , but I cannot help but feel so much like willy loman that I hate myself for it. like a phony trying to sell the world a phony bright dream , in denial about everything, hallucinating away reality.
When I see my ceiling fan sometimes I see a windmill .
And sometimes I see the place from where my batch mate hung herself.
I am afraid to die. but I also know how I barely make myself live on days like these.
I told you about the last times I felt so satisfied but I couldn’t even recreate those moments in my head without thinking how I didn’t deserve any of it .
Even then I imagine how much more I simply long for and how desperately I want something just something that bridges the gap the things I almost am .
I wish I wasn’t so dissatisfied with everything sometimes. I’ve got it better than so many people. but I had it better than this once and I can barely keep myself sane when I should actually be focused and actually be studying and actually be building a future but here I am wasting my time , wasting my life, wasting my potential, wasting my parents money and wasting so much space and it’s just making me shrink a little each moment .
You know when I go to therapy , sometimes I feel like I’m just averse to becoming better .
The last time I felt like this , everything just got ruined . because I suck at getting better. and I don’t even know how everything got so bad.