Thoughts... (heavily filtered)
I've done a lot of stupid things in my life. And most of them I did during a time where, quite frankly, I had no will to live. I was so far down that I thought there was truly no light at the end of the tunnel so rather then trying to make things better, I just went through each day hoping, praying, that it was my last. In fact... the night I met my now husband, I was really hoping he was the random psycho that would put me out of my misery once and for all.(Fortunately, he wasn't as psychotic as he led me to believe.)
What brings this up? I honestly have no idea. Perhaps it was the fact that the house-warming party took place very much near my old stomping grounds. Perhaps it was my decision to, after the party, go back to the bar where I was abducted by someone who took it upon themselves to slip a date-rape drug into my drink. Perhaps it was the flood of memories of things that happened during the weeks before and that followed that incident. The loss of one son. The loss of another. The time I decided to get in the car with a group of guys I had known for all of 5 minutes. The crying, the hiding, the cutting. The desire to be around no one but needing someone to at least show they care just a tiny bit. Wanting to be loved but so afraid of being touched. Flinching anytime someone so much as spoke to me let alone walk up behind me. Being unable to talk to anyone unless it was through some sort of instant messenger so they couldn't see me, couldnt see my tears and how I was dying inside day after day. It's so easy to convey these feelings.. and then turn around and say "I'm fine" minutes later when you realize you have just poured your soul out to a total stranger.
Yeah... That and more was me a little over three years ago.
.... Amazing.
Like I mentioned, I did go to the bar tonight... I don't know what I was expecting. All I knew is that it was a place I had grown fearful of. A place where I thought I was happiest because I had succeeded in drowning my sorrows and singing my heart out while trying to forget. A place where one of the scariest things in my life happened to me. I didn't know if any of the people I hung out with were still there. Part of me hoped there were.. part of me hoped not. I stepped in.. Right away, I saw a difference. No longer were there people crooning to the music of a karaoke machine. Instead there was a live band... not very good, but not horrible either. A quick scan of the dimly lit room revealed no one that I knew. A glance at the bar made me think I recognized someone but upon speaking with her, I realized my mistake. I left shortly after that feeling somewhat deflated. All ready to conquer my fears, only to discover that there was nothing to be afraid of any longer. Those people were gone and if I was lucky, they would stay that way.
I feel as if in some way I am trying to piece together what exactly happened during that time of my life. I don't want to, but like a bad car wreck, I can't help but look to see what is there. I feel I need to remember, yet I am afraid to do just that. I'm afraid if I remember, I will become 'her' again. I don't want to be her... I like me.. at least I think I like me. Actually I don't even know if I do. I know that my actions make others happy... Do they make me happy? I don't know...
I feel sad. Like crying, tears threatening to spill even as I type and I don't know why. I feel more alone now then I have in a long time... I don't even have an icon that I think would be good for this entry. I am at a loss. I'm confused. I feel empty.
Read all that? I'm shocked.
What brings this up? I honestly have no idea. Perhaps it was the fact that the house-warming party took place very much near my old stomping grounds. Perhaps it was my decision to, after the party, go back to the bar where I was abducted by someone who took it upon themselves to slip a date-rape drug into my drink. Perhaps it was the flood of memories of things that happened during the weeks before and that followed that incident. The loss of one son. The loss of another. The time I decided to get in the car with a group of guys I had known for all of 5 minutes. The crying, the hiding, the cutting. The desire to be around no one but needing someone to at least show they care just a tiny bit. Wanting to be loved but so afraid of being touched. Flinching anytime someone so much as spoke to me let alone walk up behind me. Being unable to talk to anyone unless it was through some sort of instant messenger so they couldn't see me, couldnt see my tears and how I was dying inside day after day. It's so easy to convey these feelings.. and then turn around and say "I'm fine" minutes later when you realize you have just poured your soul out to a total stranger.
Yeah... That and more was me a little over three years ago.
.... Amazing.
Like I mentioned, I did go to the bar tonight... I don't know what I was expecting. All I knew is that it was a place I had grown fearful of. A place where I thought I was happiest because I had succeeded in drowning my sorrows and singing my heart out while trying to forget. A place where one of the scariest things in my life happened to me. I didn't know if any of the people I hung out with were still there. Part of me hoped there were.. part of me hoped not. I stepped in.. Right away, I saw a difference. No longer were there people crooning to the music of a karaoke machine. Instead there was a live band... not very good, but not horrible either. A quick scan of the dimly lit room revealed no one that I knew. A glance at the bar made me think I recognized someone but upon speaking with her, I realized my mistake. I left shortly after that feeling somewhat deflated. All ready to conquer my fears, only to discover that there was nothing to be afraid of any longer. Those people were gone and if I was lucky, they would stay that way.
I feel as if in some way I am trying to piece together what exactly happened during that time of my life. I don't want to, but like a bad car wreck, I can't help but look to see what is there. I feel I need to remember, yet I am afraid to do just that. I'm afraid if I remember, I will become 'her' again. I don't want to be her... I like me.. at least I think I like me. Actually I don't even know if I do. I know that my actions make others happy... Do they make me happy? I don't know...
I feel sad. Like crying, tears threatening to spill even as I type and I don't know why. I feel more alone now then I have in a long time... I don't even have an icon that I think would be good for this entry. I am at a loss. I'm confused. I feel empty.
Read all that? I'm shocked.