I sound pathetic.
I never really confront my problems, to myself or anyone. I want to accept my life, but I cant.
My family is dysfunctional. I have accepted that. My mother has been isolated from 90% of her family, and my grandmother gave me a panic attack at my Nana’s funeral.
Family issues have clouded time for grief. I have only cried a handful of times over her death, but countless times over the problems in my family. There are too many to list, and yeah, every single one stings.
But there have been no family issues since Christmas time. I don’t blame that for how I feel now.
No.
I dont even blame my family for their problems.
Everything is my fault.
I feel like I’m literally the cause of everything.
I have things going well in my life. I have a nice boyfriend, lots of friends who support me, and whatever’s left of my family.
But I feel alone. Like there are people around me who are meant to listen, but I cant get the words out to them.
I guess it would be impossible for someone else to understand something I cant even get my head around.
They don’t understand. They never would, so I wear a smile and push them away when they come too close. All I will do is hurt them in the end, anyway.
In the end I’m just another girl no-one cares about. No-one will remember me when I’m gone. No one will know what eats me inside because it’s my fault. They’re my problems, and I should clean up my own mess.
I understand that I have a problem, but I dont know what it is or how to fix it. I want to talk to someone, but I’m alone in this.
It’s like I’m alone on an island, screaming for help, but no one can hear. If they could, I wouldn’t deserve their help because it’s my fault I’m on the island anyway.
And I cant swim.