So tonight I put my big girl pants on and I manned up and I spoke to my former best friend. And I laid it all out before her and it was hard and the whole time I thought I was going to just cry and cry and cry and then I wasn't even sure I was going to do it and then I just did.
And she doesn't want to lose the friendship and she wishes I'd told her sooner so she could have "fixed" it and she asked some questions and seemed a bit shell shocked and just pieced the last few months together very gradually and asked some more questions.
And well, I don't know. She's 100% ready to continue on like nothing actually happened and here I am ready to well do nothing. I think that one day we can be friends again, properly. But right now, I'm not ready. And I don't know when, or if I ever really will be.
Because, after all, the damage has been done.
Not that you can really see it. But she's taken a wrecking ball to my mind and I can't get a grip on myself. Every little doubt I've ever had is rising up and my old negative self talk is rising up and gripping me once more in its iron grasp. And I sit here and I listen to it and I let it consume me and I believe it. Every little word. All those things like 'no one cares' or 'you don't deserve comfort' or 'you have no friends' or 'nobody likes you anyway' or 'you never fitted in and you never, ever will'. And I believe.
It's sad really. I think anyway. I don't know what to do, which way to look or how to help myself. So I cut a bit. The scars are stacking up now. It's kind of, nice, in a sick way to see how real I am. To see my own blood appear, my skin scab and heal. I am real. I do feel pain. And I can heal.
But I don't know how anymore.
For a long time I was winning and was getting better and I was able to cope and to deal and the doctors didn't even dent me as they would have in times long gone. But not so much now. I'm emotionally fucked up, as I've said time and time again. And I'm tired because I'm emotionally fucked up. And I have no idea which way to look. I don't even want to do my homework and to be honest, I'm sorry I try to lean on people because it only ever makes me feel worse when they don't know what to say to me.
I don't want to hear that there are no words of comfort, that's just a little bit too much these days. A broken soul doesn't need to hear that anymore.
Where's the light at the end of the tunnel I was promised, years ago?
- Sky
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