Beautifully Broken

I did so many amazing things last month and I should really feel proud of myself and even more motivated, but I don’t. I had great paid performances, even spoke with an agent...why haven’t I followed up on that? Why am I not jumping at the chance to get signed with this agency so I can get more paid gigs? 

I know I don’t like this city or most of the people I meet here, but I won’t be here forever. I just need to finish school, teach for awhile and get some more experience, improve some skills and try somewhere else...I don’t know what else I can do. 

It felt like a meeting with an Advisor who was trying ever so gently to break it to you that you’ll never have a career in Performing Arts... focus on something else. 

They also found a heart murmur, so I’ll have to make an appointment soon for further testing. 

I don’t feel worried about that,  maybe because I’ve been so depressed lately. I mostly just feel defeated...

At least this guy is single and I don’t see him being a soul crusher or a ruiner... just not sure if I see him as being anything else either, but maybe that doesn’t matter. I’m not exactly looking to rush into anything but I really could use some company and someone to take me out now and then. I need an escape from my mind. 

I feel numb. I completely cut Jason out of my life and I have no intention of talking to him ever again. I should feel something, but I don’t... whatever we had was very one sided and I sort of made my peace with knowing that one day I needed to end things completely before I ended up drawn into whatever abusive thing he has going on with his girlfriend. It’s not healthy and he had no interest in changing, even though he was hurting other people.  Using me, playing us against each other, being emotionally unavailable, avoidant, psychologically abusive... gaslighting... I can’t have a person like that in my life. I wish I saw the signs before I got so involved with him but I didn’t.  He did what people like this usually do in the beginning. He revealed all these good qualities to me and even appeared to be emotionally available and very open to discuss his and my issues, but then as we grew closer he became more and more withdrawn and it became clear that he is completely incapable of caring for another person. Although he acknowledged it’s because he is emotionally stunted, he still made jabs at my history and made it seem as though I needed things that were “unrealistic” when really all I want and need is a normal healthy relationship.

I was foolish enough to accept Reza’s invitation, to stay at his place in Brussels since my plans for London and everywhere else fell through... is it no surprise that he tried to sleep with me again and then when I refused picked up another “friend” who he promptly fucked or undoubtedly tried to fuck at his place (while I am still here might I add) and then took her to Cologne to a music event that him and I originally planned to go to... it’s continuously reinforced year after year, person after person that I am merely a thing to be used. It’s as if I’m not even a real person. I wonder what life as a man would be like... how amazing it must be to have all the power, to actually be heard and seen as a human being and not some thing to be fucked and tossed aside. 

I think part of me wants to cry... but I feel nothing... only a mild discomfort... a kind of defeat? I don’t know. I really considered killing myself here and not going back to the states and then I thought of my mother and my father, not being able to see me one last time... perhaps not being able to bury me... and the other child in Jail, for who knows how long... what kind of person would I be to do that to them?

So it seems my reasons for not killing myself are only to avoid hurting others, others who have hurt me for a lifetime. 

I miss Jason. I feel like a fool for allowing myself to come to a state where I could feel enough for him to miss him, to have him in my heart... but what could I do? Would it not be clear to any other normal woman to stay away, to run far away... but then I’m not a normal woman and I don’t want to be with a normal man, someone I have to hide all my dark thoughts and feelings from, to limit conversations between us to pleasantries and platitudes... ironically, that’s actually all I can discuss with him now it seems. To think... I can’t even share my feelings with someone who seems to have had the same sort of experiences... I really am fucking alone in this world. He never wanted to find love... he just wanted something or someone to reignite a dying flame...and I’ve done that, now he can return and try and make things work with his girlfriend. When I think of a way the situation could be worse for me, I think... well, I could be her. At least I have done that right. 

I am here in Europe... every other person would be thrilled, would find people easily, would party and fuck and enjoy their time here... and here I sit in this empty apartment wondering what’s wrong with me. I will never be like these people, I’ll never be accepted... I’ll never be understood... loved, wanted, needed... I’ll never have a family or any of the things I’ve really wanted and felt I needed just to survive. I feel my dreams dying... I feel myself sliding back into that dark place, the place I’ve spent everyday fighting just to get farther and farther away from... it’s strange... it’s terrifying but every time I give in I feel so relieved... like a cold drink after you’ve run for miles, like laying down in a summer field with the sun on your face after a long winter...for a moment, it feels so nice to give up, to have a rest from the constant every day battle just for survival, to seek some comfort in the cool darkness... but with it comes only death...a slow... agonizing lonely death. Wouldn’t I rather die beautifully, quickly? Instead of wasting away in some hole, wallowing in my own filth? 

Fuck.