Amelia

I guess I could say that I miss knowing what I’m feeling. Everything’s so blurry these days, you know? I can’t remember last Thursday any more than I can remember the Thursday before that. I can hardly remember the days of the week anymore. I wish that I knew what the fuck I was doing. I wish I knew why I wake up everyday, and I keep going, and going, and going, even though it’s unbearable most of the time. I wish I fucking knew why everything got so hard. I wish I knew why I got sad. God, what the fuck is that, too? What the fuck is this “sadness”. It doesn’t feel like the sadness from when my grandpa died. It doesn’t feel like that time my best friend stopped talking to me without a reason. It feels like there’s this ache.This soul-ripping and excruciating ache that’s taken a hold of every part of me. I don’t fucking remember the last time I felt okay. Happiness feels like some kind of distant and unreachable concept that I’m supposed to somehow get to, even when it feels like I’m taking 2 steps back every day that I spend living like this. I wish I knew why I got my heart broken. I wish I knew why heartbreak was the most concrete feeling I’ve ever had the devastating experience to live through. I wish I had more control of how my life is going and I wish I knew why things just keep happening. I wish I knew how the fuck to love myself in the skin that I’m constantly trying to rip apart. See, I’d write a list of all the things I don’t have a control anymore, but I think that list would go on for pages, and nobody wants to fucking read that. So here I am, writing a list that seems never ending, and still feeling the way I felt at the beginning. Not sure when everything started, but I’m pretty sure I’ve had enough of it.

there’s nothing wrong with admitting you were once toxic.