My fiance basically threatened to read my blog if I'm not more open, but I'm not quite ready to share with them--not yet. I'm planning to tell them by this time next week, but you know what happens with my plans. If my plans ever worked out ever, then maybe my life wouldn't be spiraling as badly as it is now.
I want to seek an oracle reading from a tarot streamer to see if I'm on the right path because I desperately need to touch base with my guides and need help badly. I keep messing up. Over and over and over again. It doesn't matter how accidental it may be--the results matter; my intention doesn't. And the results of my messing up are renewed harm.
I want to tell my fiance what is going on, because I've basically lost all hope for myself. I literally saved their life--but right now, I'm the one whose life needs to be saved.
I'm not okay right now. And it's harder every day to live, especially knowing all the pain I've caused, and the pain I have right now.
I'm feeling like I'm losing everything that matters to me.
My life feels like it's slowly slipping away from me.
And it feels like it's not going to get better.
I feel like everything is only getting worse and worse.
The pain, the sense of loss, the heartbreak, only growing rather than getting smaller.
I'm hanging on by a thread. My system's in "safe mode", and Michelle is doing a lot of the heavy-lifting in keeping us barely afloat. The good news is we're discovering a lot about our system, but that knowledge feels worthless to us now.
Our fiance is the only thing keeping us alive right now, because we genuinely have no future without them, and even then, a fear of ours is we can't see our future even with them. Not because of any failing on their end. Because of us, me, "Bree", not lasting that long. That's scary.
We feel like we're losing things slowly.
Job performance.
Money.
Communities.
Twitch streams we feel we belong in.
Sites we've been on for years.
Everything is slipping away.
And nothing is making it better.
Only worse.
There's a lot I can't say publicly on my blog, or at least, shouldn't. And even if I could, often, the words fail me. And there's not really a good person to talk to. And even if there were, I'm not sure I'm up to it. I don't know how to explain everything that has gone wrong.
I still owe a blog explaining the deleted blogs--I was going to write it yesterday, but then I...couldn't.
I still owe a blog to bring in the new year properly, which I've owed since New Years Eve...and I haven't. I should be affirming others, uplifting them, giving them hope and positivity, but I am apparently good for nothing but inspiring the opposite.
To say at least one quiet part out loud though...I have had suicidal thoughts. And they're growing worse and more frequent. I haven't had them in fifteen years. Now, every time I feel lonely and isolated and alone, my own thoughts trap me in my failures and all the pain they have caused and I just think, "I want it all to end."
I want the pain to just...stop.
I don't want people to be hurt by me anymore, and if I were gone, then...so would the pain of my having hurt them.
Of course, I am a coward. I'm afraid of death. I don't want to die. So...my system invented me, Michelle, as a "safe mode". We're going in and out of me being used. I'm not Bree, but we're swapping fastly enough so Bree has written most of this. We developed Michelle so that she would protect us from going through with that. She allows us to suffer a temporary death and not a permanent one.
Yet even Michelle isn't holding up perfectly. Her shell has cracked, and the pain she is suppressing has leaked through at times. She's feeling the waves of depression, sadness, loss, and loneliness. And also, fear. Fear of vanishing, fear of disappearing...but also the fear of living.
It's hard to really explain what's going on. But, it's getting harder and harder to envision a future where I am alive as me. More and more, it feels like I am going to just...not exist, because how can I?
I'm wasting my life.
I've wasted every gift I've ever been given.
I'm becoming more distanced from everything in my life.
I'm more and more of a failure, whose ripple effect is less and less good and more and more bad.
I don't see a point in living a life where I'm not helping others and being that one uplifting people.
And I also don't see the point in living my life without the people I love being in it.
So...I'm just...trying to keep afloat, so any hope of them remaining lives on.
I'll be honest right now. I've lost all hope. I've lost all hope of ever healing wounds. I've lost all hope of mending friendships. I've lost all hope of things getting better. I've lost all hope of people seeing the me that I want them to see. I've lost all hope of people seeing me and thinking I am worth fighting to keep in their lives. I've lost all hope of existing. I've lost all hope of people seeing what I've written and seeing the work I've done. I've lost all hope of everything and anything. I've lost all hope of redemption. I've lost all hope of living.
And I just...yeah it's deserved. I don't deserve any of the things I hope for. I deserve no happiness. I deserve no friends. I deserve no life.
I don't want to live a life where I'm only hurting people. I don't want to live a life where the people I value most in the world are those deepest hurt by my actions, both past and present. I don't want to have my life, my happiness, my existence, come at the detriment of others, and I don't want to constantly be delivering botched "I'm sorry"s.
I don't know how to apologize properly, but even if I did, a life where I constantly need to be giving those apologies isn't one I want to live.
I don't want people to suffer because of me.
Yet they do.
And yet, despite their suffering, they're moving forward with their lives. They're continuing to interact with their friends, make jokes, support each other, plan their lives, hang out, have fun, and all the while, I am seeing them, knowing I am slowly losing more and more and more of that, and feeling more and more and more empty.
There's a growing void in my heart.
It hurts so much.
And I don't know what to do with it.
I'm sorry to everyone.
I know how much of a burden I am.
You deserve better than this, yet this is all I have to offer.
I had more thoughts, but I've lost them.
I just. Am existing, barely.
I don't really have a positive ending to this blog. Not that people read my blog, except when they're linked to the very worst of it, but I still usually try to act as if I have readers. But, I can't really think of one today, so I am sorry. It's just how I am right now. This is me. This is my existence. It's deserved, as pathetic as it is, but it's me.