bad luck

8/22/2015 – Day Eleven.

I haven’t had much time to spend alone. Which in a way can be okay, but in honor of this experiment I should be alone. Alone with my thoughts, alone with my worries, alone with my struggles. At the current time I can’t do things alone but I find myself learning to do everything alone. A few nights ago I couldn’t wait to come home. Sleep in my own bed, go back to my life. Back to my routine and what not. I had this fear of leaving my home that paralyzed my thoughts. I cried for no reason and felt this petrified feeling that everyone I loved was further and further away from me.

When you’re depressed, this dark cloud looms over you. It doesn’t matter how  many times you change your attitude or how much you try to feel better, nothing works. Before I left, something snapped. I couldn’t point a finger at the exact moment, but something happened and my heart broke. I carry things with me from the past that trail ahead into my present. I could point the finger at many culprits of my problems, but the longer the finger points the more I realize the 3 fingers that point back at me. Maybe I was always the weight of my own problems. Maybe I was the one that caused all this unhappiness. Maybe in the end I deserved all this sadness and unhappiness. I hadn’t felt like a good person in a long time. I knew I was selfish, I knew I was a hurtful person, I just didn’t know how much longer I could keep going. When someone tells you what a bad person you are, you start believing it. It infects your bloodstream and seeps deep into your bones, this negativity and paranoia that no matter how much you change, you’ll always feel the same.

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It’s all in my head. All in my head to believe those things. Some part of myself believes that all the goodness that I once had inside of me, left a long time ago. Instead I am left with a walking corpse that cynical ways infects negativity to everyone. I believe I am bad luck. Anything bad that happens to anyone, I believe I am the cause of it. Deep inside I do believe that people are better off without me. Its one of the reasons why I retreat to my shell so often. It’s why I hide from the world, its why I have wanted to spend this time alone. Because a world without me, is a better place for everyone. I know people will read this and think I have absolutely gone mental (or maybe believe that I am right). I painted this picture of my life and built it around so many good people, but once I feel I have hurt enough people, I paint myself out of the portrait. My mouth and my bullshit juvenile ways have found a way to alienate people. When I try to reverse the damage, people mistake my kindness for weakness and walk all over me. I can’t win either way. I can’t keep running away from my problems. I can’t keep pretending that my worries don’t keep me awake at night. I can’t keep allowing the errors of my past mistakes continue to haunt me. I know I can be good, I know I can be a good person.

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I thought about coming home. People I miss, people who don’t really have a clue about whats is going on, which made me yearn to go home. Figure everything all out. Then I wished to pack my bags and run far away back into my hometown. Deep into the dead center. Then I came to the realization that being home would only flood back memories. I am not okay. I am not better but being lost in a city filled with so many people feels better than feeling hopelessly lost. I don’t know where I am going. I don’t know what I am doing and as the days inch closer to being home, I realized how much I don’t want to be home. It rains so heavily here. It rains so often that all I want to do is reach my hand out of windows and feel the rain against my skin. Feel comfort from the feeling of running away. I could lay in bed until the clouds come back to haunt my skin and push away the sun. The lighting illuminates the sky white from the black. Crying out streams of light that guides us to a better way of feeling. It screams mimic my heart beat and I just want to be alone. I don’t have the straight to come back home. I don’t have the energy to pretend that my skin doesn’t hurt. I could lie in this bed forever. Staring at the clouds that come in. Staring at the familiar walls and tiles. All the comforting scents of this city.

I am not ready to go home, because at this moment I feel at home.

As I lie here.

I have a problem with thinking. Thinking about the past, present and where I fit in the after. Things weigh heavily on my mind. Things I’ve never told anyone, things that I should have had my peace with and let go. Demons are funny faceless creatures that reach out to you at every time. I can’t help but think about these nameless, faceless creatures. Demons haunt my thoughts and drown me with voices that never stop.

These are the cards that I have dealt with. This is my present and my future. I have always been this bad luck hero that morphs into a villainous evil. This bad luck falls then follows and carries me home. I am not okay, but I tell everyone I am fine. I am fine and focus conversations on things that have nothing to do with me. I lie here lying about every little thing I don’t want to lie about anymore. I am not okay but I say I am just fine just to get by.

Finding this bitterness take away the good I have left in me. Take away this light that glittered is now dimmed in this darkness. I am the bad guy that lives long enough to be the villain in this story. Lying here, lying to a million faces. It’s these demons you can’t see, that close in on me. But even I can’t blame them.

I am no good. I am no good. I am no good.

8/16/2015