Again, this time in July
It has been about 7 months since the last time I attempted to open my heart. I dunno what it is. I keep falling for the same shit over and over again. Someone completely out of my reach. Someone that I want to get to know better... but out of my reach. I don't understand why I do this... maybe because it is someone who is better than me that I want. Someone who is more complete than I am. I want more... and I would like to try... but I think it is far too late for me now. It is far too late for me to pick up the pieces of myself and be better.
At the age of 26, I feel it is far too late for me. Too late to be free of all the problems of my life. Compounded by years of self-hatred, self-loathing, and self-destruction, the problems of my life seem to crush me when I even get close to finding courage. When I make the realization that I am slowly becoming better... I suddenly free-fall into a place where I feel I cannot climb. I want, desperately, to be happier. Better. Resilient.
Instead, I must claw my way out. Drag whatever is left of my spirit back to where I was... only to fall once more. Only to feel, once again, the pull of hatred. Destruction. Anger.
There are times when I wish, desperately, that I had the power to end life. To kill. To destroy others. To have them feel as I feel. Broken... constantly broken. Always in a state of repair. I wish that I could ravage lives so that I am no longer alone in my suffering. I want it. But, because I know I would never be able to live with myself afterwards, I continue to save lives. To be this person that, instead, would ferry people back from the brink of death.
I think perhaps my awful patients are meant to test my resolve. My resolve in the belief that all people are inherently good. They are respectful. They are kind. And, therefore, perhaps strengthen me. Instead, it crushes me. Makes me wish that I can never believe such a thing. That people, instead, are inherently evil beings... made to conform to decorum's wish that they be kind to people so that they may achieve their own ends. Selfish. Greedy. Undeserving of my faith in humanity.
Perhaps it is God's punishment. God's punishment for choosing to believe that people are inherently good. Punishment for not believing that God chose to make people to be good. Perhaps my faith in humanity is misguided... useless... and altogether pointless. Perhaps I am, instead, to believe in only God. To believe that human beings are awful, terrible people... incapable of love and affection. That this, alone, is my purpose:
To hate people.
To believe that they are evil.
To believe only that kindness comes from God and God alone.
I hope that this is not the case. I hope, for my own sanity, that I am, indeed, wrong. That people are inherently good and that humans are good because that is their purpose... not because God made them so.
However, I hope most of all, that I am wrong... That someone is good enough to see past my inherent evil... My deep desire to destroy... My own self-hatred...
And love me.
Through all of my inhumanity... Love me.
I am afraid, more than anything else, that this will never be the case.
I hearby declare... that I am willing to give up my hearing. The power of my love for music... for the love of another human being. I want to be loved. I want to stop feeling this hatred for myself.
Please... I simply want someone to love me.
At the age of 26, I feel it is far too late for me. Too late to be free of all the problems of my life. Compounded by years of self-hatred, self-loathing, and self-destruction, the problems of my life seem to crush me when I even get close to finding courage. When I make the realization that I am slowly becoming better... I suddenly free-fall into a place where I feel I cannot climb. I want, desperately, to be happier. Better. Resilient.
Instead, I must claw my way out. Drag whatever is left of my spirit back to where I was... only to fall once more. Only to feel, once again, the pull of hatred. Destruction. Anger.
There are times when I wish, desperately, that I had the power to end life. To kill. To destroy others. To have them feel as I feel. Broken... constantly broken. Always in a state of repair. I wish that I could ravage lives so that I am no longer alone in my suffering. I want it. But, because I know I would never be able to live with myself afterwards, I continue to save lives. To be this person that, instead, would ferry people back from the brink of death.
I think perhaps my awful patients are meant to test my resolve. My resolve in the belief that all people are inherently good. They are respectful. They are kind. And, therefore, perhaps strengthen me. Instead, it crushes me. Makes me wish that I can never believe such a thing. That people, instead, are inherently evil beings... made to conform to decorum's wish that they be kind to people so that they may achieve their own ends. Selfish. Greedy. Undeserving of my faith in humanity.
Perhaps it is God's punishment. God's punishment for choosing to believe that people are inherently good. Punishment for not believing that God chose to make people to be good. Perhaps my faith in humanity is misguided... useless... and altogether pointless. Perhaps I am, instead, to believe in only God. To believe that human beings are awful, terrible people... incapable of love and affection. That this, alone, is my purpose:
To hate people.
To believe that they are evil.
To believe only that kindness comes from God and God alone.
I hope that this is not the case. I hope, for my own sanity, that I am, indeed, wrong. That people are inherently good and that humans are good because that is their purpose... not because God made them so.
However, I hope most of all, that I am wrong... That someone is good enough to see past my inherent evil... My deep desire to destroy... My own self-hatred...
And love me.
Through all of my inhumanity... Love me.
I am afraid, more than anything else, that this will never be the case.
I hearby declare... that I am willing to give up my hearing. The power of my love for music... for the love of another human being. I want to be loved. I want to stop feeling this hatred for myself.
Please... I simply want someone to love me.