lillian m. blakey moon_window




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Sunlight on Earth

� Copyright 2006-2012
Thursday, Mar. 31, 2016 - 11:15 pm

=*=


I wish I didn't have to wake up anymore. Being awake hurts too much again.

My dad died on Easter. Since then no one in my family has even acknowledged that I exist. Since then I have cried my way through 3 days, straight. Since then I haven't gotten a single word of homework written. Since then my head has hurt and I've eaten a bowl of strawberries, a cup of ice cream, and a papusa, and I'm dehydrated no matter what I do. Since then I realized I don't exist to anyone in my family and have been told by my brother that my siblings resent me for not talking to our dad, but forgive me simply because i'm their sister. They don't seem to care that it fucking hurt every time I talked to him, even if he was being a rare nice. It was stabbing and picking at a wound I've had my entire life.

If my dad had been slightly normal, I wouldn't be grieving on five or so different levels right now. But there is no easy way out of this. I'm being ripped to shreds with guilt, sadness, loneliness, fear, abandonment...

I am grieving because he wasn't in my life because he chose severe drug abuse and crime over his kids and I couldn't handle that.

I am grieving because when he was kind to me, the brief periods he was, I really fucking miss that feeling, it felt so good.

I am grieving because I will never have a father or know what that means and there is no longer even hope of knowing.

I am grieving because little me really loved her dad with her whole heart and always will and wishes he could have accepted that amount of love for even just a second.

I am grieving because he so often hurt to know.

I am dying inside because what killed him is huffing glue and paint 30+ years ago. Not the meth, not the heroin, or the speed or the alcohol, or the cigarettes. The huffing killed his lungs. And that killed him, and took him 20 years earlier than he should have gone. And that fucking hurts. That he would still be here if he hadn't done that shit.

And then my boyfriend gets critical of me when I am obviously depressed (like now) and don't want to participate, and feel exhausted when I try, and it spirals badly to where i'm sorry for existing because of how he talks to me. Like I'm the stupidest person he knows. And I am sitting here on the couch, and he is sitting at the table listening to me crying and not even acknowledging me...and I wonder why the fuck I am with him...and then I know why. I am with him because he was kind and funny, and supportive, and he stayed...and that last part, that he stayed, as the sole person in my life so far who has ever stayed. And I wonder what is so awful about me that no one does. And I wonder why the hell he does.

I really don't know what to do. I am honestly failing my classes for the first time in my life. I was okay-ish until this happened. But I can't push myself any longer. I'm sorry for trying and thinking it would be okay.

I want to disappear, somehow. Just un-exist...de-exist. I'm tired of hurting so much. I've cried my way through this life. I wonder when it will finally end so I won't have to hurt anymore.

~e


=*= one day i'll fly away =*=

most recent entries:

waving white flags - Wednesday, Sept. 27, 2017

yeah so, stuff is happening... - Monday, Sept. 18, 2017

my mind is on the blink - Tuesday, Sept. 12, 2017

How stupid of me - Saturday, Sept. 09, 2017

finally breaking down - Monday, Sept. 04, 2017