I'm glad that now I trust him. I'm glad that I can talk to him about this because I'm so fed of hiding it and having to deal with it alone.
You can feel whatever you want to feel and you shouldn't feel ashamed because of it
Oh joy, there we go, I knew it wouldn't take him long. He always ends up talking about how I 'should' be feeling and what I 'should' do about it. When all I want him to say is "it's okay I'm here for you"
I don't WANT to be depressed. I don't WANT to feel sad.
That should do it. Make him feel sorry for me, I've earned some sympathy after hiding this for 2 years. It feels so great to let this out.
I know, but I'm saying that because it's the case now, there's no need to feel ashamed or anything.
No reason to be ashamed! Ha! I don't think he realises that I'm not ashamed of what I have done. But I'm not proud either. I do not feel guilty for my scars because each and everyone of those scars has a different story, the fact that the wounds are healing tell me that things are getting better.
Why do you say that Felix?
Trying to get to the bottom of what he is saying is like trying to get something out of the bottom of a glass bottle; there's only one way to do it.
Because it can be fixed. You can be fixed.
Sometimes it annoys me that I over analyse things because now I'm just upsetting myself reading that over and over again. The fact that he refers to me as being broken, does he think I'm fragile or is he saying that I have just been strong for too long. I can assure him that I'm not put together at all. Nor am I broken. I'm searching for the pieces that have been lost. I'm recovering- I'm finding the beautiful in all the ugly and I'm stitching it into my life. I'm putting myself back together. I know what to do and I simply reply.
I cant knock on the door or ask for napkins. I cant call you and ask you how you are. I cant raise my hand without the fear of being wrong. I cant hang out with new people. I cant live my life- Its like being in a cage that's unlocked. I can get out but I've trapped myself. It's like wanting to have friends but not being able to hangout. It's like suffocating when you're still breathing. It's not a way to live it's a way to die.
I sometimes wonder why I even bother. Give me a reason why I shouldn't kill myself. He doesn't make me happy, he makes me feel worse. The nicotine he gives me when we talk is fading and I need more. Is it the fact that I expect so much from him because I would do so much more for him? Is it that I want him to make it better, I want him to love me so that when my life flashes in front of my eyes it will be worth watching.
I just want to tell him that he was right. I'm broken. Remember, when something is broken it can't be fixed, which is why he described me so perfectly. Because that is exactly how I feel. I feel like he does care but not enough. I'm so ashamed of myself: I'm worthless and replaceable.