What happened?

Where did life escape me? Because I had that, I had life when I stood panting in the bathroom stall at school freaking out.

I asked myself what happened when I barely finished high school, and most of my days were a drag. When I had to bend over on my way to the store because the anxiety got the best of me and I felt like I had to throw up, just because I had to go to a crowded place and get some milk (or whatever). I asked myself what happened then, when I had to haste out of the classroom in the middle of the teachers tale about chord progressions and G sharp and B flat. I asked myself what happened when most nights I could not sleep and self-harm became a procedure every night, so maybe-maybe I could get some sleep. I asked myself what the fuck happened to my life? because this was not how it had been. How had I ended up like that?

My life in middle school was painful, but I still managed school. I mean it was my way of surviving. Who was I when I didn’t ace every test I did, or when I couldn’t hang out with friends without panicking anymore? So I asked myself what happened. And I could find some of the answers. I saw how I had ended up that way, I saw the sensibility in it. I saw the truth and I understood how it had come to be, and I believed in a way out of it.

Now, two and a half years later, I ask myself the same thing again. What happened? What the fuck happened!? How did I end up with several involuntary hospitalizations within a month? When and where, and how, did it all get so bad I would need stitches several days in a week? When did I stop going outside? What happened when I went from hoping that someday, far in the future it would get better for me, to hoping tomorrow would be the last day I had to breathe? Where did life escape me? Because I had that, I had life when I stood panting in the bathroom stall at school freaking out; I had it when I got my test back barely passing; I had it when counting scars on my arms; I had it while wishing I was dead. But now … What happened?

I search myself for the answer. I try to be as honest as can be, to really dig deep. But I don’t know. I don’t understand what I did wrong. I don’t understand how it is possible to be where I’m at. It happens more often that I get the strangest feeling that we aren’t real. I dissociate and I’m sure people around me are machines, I laugh at the strangest places because this world, this life, cannot possibly be mine, this world cannot possibly be. 

I don’t understand at all. Not how I got here, not what happened that made me get here, and not a single bit of what this, here, is.

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5 thoughts on “What happened?

  1. I don’t understand at all. Not how I got here, not what happened that made me get here, and not a single bit of what this, here, is. – And you probably never will. The fun is in trying to figure it out anyway! Trust me friend, I’ve been in your shoes. It gets better. Keep pushing forward.

    • Thanks! I sure hope it gets better, because I don’t think it can get any worse 😛
      And I don’t see what fun there is in figuring out all the shit .. I mean, I wanna figure out sunbeams and puppies instead! 🙂

      • hahaha! The fun is, when you think you have it even a little figured out, you find out, you don’t know s*** and go back to the drawing board!

  2. It isn’t your fault…not one moment of it. It is confusing when you look back and see the suffering…the energy spent while not much has really changed or become easier/better. You likely have many coping mechanisms and made progress, however, it’s hard to see when you’re struggling.

    I hear you…I wish I could help but all I can do is listen. You’re not alone out there. x

  3. I can really relate to this. I feel like I’ve slipped out of my own life. I’ve always had problems but I coped better in the past or I at least appeared to, I think I cared more about what others thought about me when I was younger.
    Some of the things I have done really surprise me and I feel like I’m looking at someone else’s life when I look back at my own.

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