i realised this morning that despite popular opinion, changing the location of my despair and depression is unlikely to help me. I spent all my years at school achieving. getting brilliant grades so that some day i might become something. never in my life did i imagine that what i would become is a mess.
i don't want to work. i don't want to see people who don't understand me and i don't want to see tomorrow.
i want someone to find me and know that i am at peace. i want to have a funeral with an open casket where i will lie naked so that people can see the beauty and pain that tore me apart. i want someone to come and look after me.
at this point a mental hospital does seem like my only salvation. i just don't know how to get into one. and i know what the opinion would be of all those around me. she's finally cracked up. there's no going back now. she's gone.
in my consideration of moving countries it never occurred to me that i might still be sick if i lived somewhere else. that less of my life might be perfect. how can i even consider the idea of going to art school when every time i look at a paint brush or a clay tool i feel like stabbing myself with it. i am probably at this point the least productive aspiring artist there ever was.
and i do wonder. if happiness is this far away, this hard for me to get to. is it even possible for me? is it there in my future? do i have any hope or should i just let go now? i do feel like my soul is gone. everyone else is spinning around me making their lives, going places and i feel like a fake.
like i should wear a sign to warn prospective friends and employers, this girl is a lunatic she has officially gone crazy. don't take any notice of her and especially don't become her friend. the person she displays is a mere shadow of the person she used to be. now she is just all twisted beyond recognition. a deadly disease, in a pretty box.
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