Time to show myself
There's a couple of journal entries I've kept hidden then some I have in my computer but never put them up here. I think ti's time I face the truth hitting me in the face, so here are two I wrote yesterday so they refer to the day before yesterday:
I don’t regret that I was cutting my leg yesterday. What I regret that I didn’t do a good job at it. I wanted to draw a broken heart but that knife is not easy to manage. It would’ve been like tattoo-ing myself with my own blood, my bleeding broken heart. I drank too many sleeping pills and now it’s hard for me to stay awake. It was hard to fall asleep, that’s why I took two more but very hard to stay awake now. Christmas party is on today. I don’t want to be here. I was looking forward to it yesterday but not today. Precious, you ruined my life.
I’m massively depressed. My marriage turned out a complete nightmare. My Devil that looks like an Angel. I knew it since early on that he was that way: stubborn, proud, always thinking he’s right, unwilling to back up, will not speak to you when he’s angry and I thought to myself millions of times “That’s’ going to be a problem”, but I just couldn’t walk away. I saw my life had a good chance to end in disaster but I wanted him to be my fairy tale. Ray, my cute European boy whom I met sailing on a cruise through the Caribbean under the stars, the man who loved me from the start, who waited for me for years… Sounds bloody fucking romantic doesn’t it? My life as a movie. That’s why I married him, because I foolishly held on to the idea of having the ideal, happy life which people would envy, specially the girls. "In love with the idea of love", as they say. I wanted the perfect man who could give me a perfect life; instead I ended up with someone who constantly hurts me, even physically a few times. He says I need to be in a mental hospital. I say it’s too late for that.
I don’t regret that I was cutting my leg yesterday. What I regret that I didn’t do a good job at it. I wanted to draw a broken heart but that knife is not easy to manage. It would’ve been like tattoo-ing myself with my own blood, my bleeding broken heart. I drank too many sleeping pills and now it’s hard for me to stay awake. It was hard to fall asleep, that’s why I took two more but very hard to stay awake now. Christmas party is on today. I don’t want to be here. I was looking forward to it yesterday but not today. Precious, you ruined my life.
I’m massively depressed. My marriage turned out a complete nightmare. My Devil that looks like an Angel. I knew it since early on that he was that way: stubborn, proud, always thinking he’s right, unwilling to back up, will not speak to you when he’s angry and I thought to myself millions of times “That’s’ going to be a problem”, but I just couldn’t walk away. I saw my life had a good chance to end in disaster but I wanted him to be my fairy tale. Ray, my cute European boy whom I met sailing on a cruise through the Caribbean under the stars, the man who loved me from the start, who waited for me for years… Sounds bloody fucking romantic doesn’t it? My life as a movie. That’s why I married him, because I foolishly held on to the idea of having the ideal, happy life which people would envy, specially the girls. "In love with the idea of love", as they say. I wanted the perfect man who could give me a perfect life; instead I ended up with someone who constantly hurts me, even physically a few times. He says I need to be in a mental hospital. I say it’s too late for that.