Estoy oficialmente destrozada. El dolor en el pecho, ese hueco, esa angustia que nunca se va. Que por momentos duele más y por momentos menos. Pero siempre está. Latente. Esperando que alguna diminuta cosa haga que me desmorone. Puedo estar caminando por la calle y sin previo aviso estar al punto de la hiperventilación. O lo más bien en mi casa y romper en un llanto que llenaría una bañera.
No tengo fuerzas para nada. Ni para la facultad, ni para dedicarme a otra cosa que no sea la facultad. Estoy en constante hibernación, transitando la vida, yo que había decidido vivirla.
Todos los días abro los ojos y delibero fuertemente cuanta necesidad hay de levantarme. Me quedaría en esa cama eternamente de ser por mi. Me despierto, estoy consciente de que estoy despierta pero mi cerebro nunca logra mandar la señal de 'levantate'.
Todo el mundo me dice 'empezá a hacer cosas', 'dejate de joder', como si fuera tan fácil. No mucha gente puede entender el sentir de la nada misma. No entiendo cuando empezó todo esto.
27.11.13
23.9.13
21.2.13
my dark side
Can't even remember the last time I wrote something here, related to everything I've been through.
Today, after approximately five years in therapy, I've been able to speak out all the pain i had inside, buried deep down, all that was left from the past years and the dark times. And the response of my therapist was: one, to congratulate me (which was kind of nice after talking about my suicidal time for an hour); two, she have me an assignment Write your story, she said. 'You've got so much to say, we cannot go through all of it (in an hour) without diverting ourselves to other tiny subjects, all important of course, but distracting us from the main issue here'. So i will take her advice. I will write my shitty story, wishing to let go of all the darkness inside of me by doing so. I just wish it was all written and over with it already, so i can't imagine what the next couple of days are gonna feel like.
So, here is to me and my courage. I hope it sticks with me throughout the whole flashback, to the very last sentence, to the very last final dot. To 'the end'.
And let's hope it is truly the end of that part of me.
Today, after approximately five years in therapy, I've been able to speak out all the pain i had inside, buried deep down, all that was left from the past years and the dark times. And the response of my therapist was: one, to congratulate me (which was kind of nice after talking about my suicidal time for an hour); two, she have me an assignment Write your story, she said. 'You've got so much to say, we cannot go through all of it (in an hour) without diverting ourselves to other tiny subjects, all important of course, but distracting us from the main issue here'. So i will take her advice. I will write my shitty story, wishing to let go of all the darkness inside of me by doing so. I just wish it was all written and over with it already, so i can't imagine what the next couple of days are gonna feel like.
So, here is to me and my courage. I hope it sticks with me throughout the whole flashback, to the very last sentence, to the very last final dot. To 'the end'.
And let's hope it is truly the end of that part of me.
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