Sometimes it justs hurt to much to talk about. And when it gets this bad, I write.
I've put up walls around myself to hide the cracks in my heart and muffle the tearing sobs in the dark. I smile and like to act like I could put up a good fight if I needed to. I act like I can take on the world and win. I hold my head up high while I collapse against a wall. It's ridiculous. I have nothing to be proud of. Yet somehow I act like I'm something special, like I'm somebody in this world when I know it's a load of bullshit.
I don't have anywhere to go. I ran out of money after losing my last job, and therefore got kicked out of my house because I couldn't afford June rent. I got in touch with my parents, asking about maybe moving back in. They took me out to dinner and explained how things would go. I would have to pay rent to them as well, and have a curfew of 11:00pm. Problem is, I work from 11:00pm-4:00am at my new job. I offered other forms of good behavior in exchange, but they dodged those. Eventually my parents said I'm too difficult to have home...I'm a bad influence on my younger brother...my presence makes it nearly impossible for them to have a peaceful and well-polished household. I'm not quoting them directly, but I am not exaggerating. My mom went on to say that "I mean, you can come home if it comes down to you sleeping on a park bench or something..." and I shut it out. I'm not sleeping on a park bench, I'm sleeping in Brett's car and showering at the community college. I carry a backpack of essentials and keep the extra stuff in a locker at the school. Sometimes I sleep in other friends' cars or at their houses. It's really not bad, but the label is still in the back of my mind: "homeless."
I haven't gotten any money from my new job yet, so I'm also broke and homeless. I can't buy cigarettes or food. The food thing is handy, except it's a weird feeling. It used to be a choice, "don't eat." Now it's a fact. "Can't eat." The lack of cigarettes is killer though. I'm running out of stress-relievers.
I called Paul last night. Being homeless makes you miss people of the past. In fact, I really, really, wanted to see him. He didn't pick up right away, but texted me back a few hours later asking what I needed. I called him again and told him I just wanted to talk, and hang out like we used to. He eventually told me in the same awkward tone that he couldn't have me around...I was too much of a bad influence on him and an upset to his life. I was shocked. You all remember Paul, the love of my life, the best friend of my life. In some ways, he was my life. And he closed the door on me like my parents did. He heard about my situation and said, "I'm sure they would take you back now."
I explained that if someone makes it clear they don't want me around, then I'm not going to try and gain their pity so they take me back. All part of me having pride for no reason. I'm a fat useless bump on society's log and I still try to pretend I'm not.
Eventually I told Paul I had to go. I lied. I wasn't doing anything, I was at a playground in the dark with a couple of my friends talking by their car on the next street over. I hung up the phone, hung my head, and cried harder than I have in a long time. Visions of the past kept flying through my head. You, my dear anas have been there through everything. You have seen me through Joe, Paul, and now Damian. All of which I have loved dearly. Joe is completely gone...I never see him or hear from him. He could have moved out of the country and I never would have heard about it. Paul is fading away, the last memories and connections he has with me being rubbed out like traces of ink on a paper.
Why does everyone try their best to forget me?
Last night I wanted to scream at someone, anyone. I wanted to demand answers to the questions flying through my head. SOMEONE, ANYONE, TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME? I wanted to grab the nearest person and shake them, begging them to tell me WHAT IS SO WRONG WITH ME?
Nikki from Letters From Ana is doing a 4-day fast with me, and I am throwing my everything into this. I'm planning on flushing out at some point, and using any and every pill to increase energy and fat-burning. I will escape this hell.