excerpts from stories i will never write

i'm i think i'm depressed. i'm done hiding things here. it's as my parents told me; "no one reads. no one cares." right at this moment, i cannot remember joy. i cannot remember sitting down to a good episode of a show i love. i cannot remember wanting to be cuddled. today i was scared of touch. me, the touch starved person i am. scared of physical contact with the right person. i shy away. i am shutting down. i am hungry but the thought of food makes me want to vomit. day after day, minute after minute, second after second. shoving food into my body which does nothing but sustain me for several hours until i convince myself to eat again. it's anti-cognitive––i know i need to eat; it will keep me healthy; by not eating i am gaining weight. and yet here i am. the smell of food is disgusting.  of course, material things do not help. no amount of metal in my body, ink on my skin, things i can hold, medication in any form will make me feel better. i know i have...

soon i will throw out the last thing i keep around that reminds me of you–– such a small thing–– a pen. scratched on the sides, worn from use, running out of ink. traced out lines in my Bible, careful note-taking,  kept my hand steady. soon i will throw away the last thing that reminds me of you. it may not even be the exact same one you bought me as i bought another pack of the same pens sometime after regardless it's almost gone now like you the lines in (of) my memory faded. i have to press down on the paper to get your pen to write for me. a blade almost cutting the paper like the lines you made on my heart when you left. and you left so many times. so many times. but soon i will throw away the last thing that reminds me of you and maybe, maybe, you'll leave with it. just a pen.  --9.28.20

terrified. so far away, but distance makes things both easier and harder. different things. scared she's not ready, will never be ready. will never be good enough. scared she won't be able to let go of herself enough to hold onto someone else.

feeling kind of like i'm floating. temporary. not all the way here. like i'm in space, or flying, or falling.  just here for a little while. like i'm afraid to get back into things again.  like i'm afraid to get used to things, because they're going to change-- not just in the next few months, but the next few days. like i'm scared. just scared. of everything. like i want someone to hold me to sleep just so i can feel safe, comforted, in a controlled place. not depressed in the way that i may burst into tears at any moment, but more like i am on the brink of a cliff waiting to do something expensive unexpected impulsive fly or fall --8.18.20

but what i don't say is that on top of not being able to see him in the evening, this new work schedule means that i have even more trouble and anxiety and stress about balancing my family and him and that now this means more disappointment  from me from my family from him because i have to measure out the nights  balance them between the two  and know all the while that neither will be satisfied and so i will have let everyone down and i can do nothing to fix it --7.25.20

"wishing he would stop asking questions so i wouldn't have to give answers, but at the same time loving that he cares enough to ask questions in the first place." one of the first things i noticed and loved about him. yet so difficult when i don't know how to put to words what i feel, or when i don't want to. so unused to using the phrase "i'd rather not talk about it." but he's right--as usual. it would make things easier for both of us. --7.16.20

how to solve the inner conflict? eyes burning. waiting, awake, worrying. not sure why he disappeared. lots of time to think. what's up with me? i really should not blame it on my circumstances but it feels like i need to yell at someone, need to hurt myself or let go of all this pent-up energy somehow. it's times like these when i wish she hadn't left me. times when i knew i had someone there for me just a text away.  except when she wasn't there. it's late. my eyes burn from staring at a screen for too long. i'm tired.  attention whore. that's what i feel like. like if i don't have his full attention and patience when i want it--i'm lost, i'm lonely. i want everything from him except when i don't, and then i just want to be left alone. such a spoiled attitude--not sure where it came from, but i wish it would leave. entitled. but i feel like i can't stop feeling that way. dangerous unless i get it under control. i don't even want to w...

help. i want to go back. i don't want to back. i'm tired. i'm wired. it's time for me to get another bodily modification to feel some control over my body and my life. i feel ready to jump off a high surface and just watch myself and feel myself soar. soar. soar.  --7.5.20

yesterday. let's try to figure out what i was feeling.  first: "i don't really want to be here."  - tired of staying inside all day - sitting down watching tv. that does not build or grow a relationship. - feeling stagnant. wanting to take a walk in the rain. by myself, because i knew he wouldn't want to come.  - a little worried whenever i show that wild spontaneous side of me. like the part that would get soaking wet and dance in the rain is too much and needs to be hidden. like he's too mature for that part of me. - nothing open anyways. he doesn't like to be outside as much as i do, i think.  second: "please don't touch me." - not sure why. perhaps see the first reaction--"i don't really want to be here." it would have been more interesting to me if i had wanted to be there. - just wanting to be alone. not having to be fake because thoughts run through my head at 90 miles an hour and in the moment i can't explain. i have...