I don't know anymore.

We say a lot of things we don't mean when we're angry for one reason or another.

We blame ourselves for things that were not in our control when we had no power over a situation.

We tear ourselves down for not thinking we're good enough because we can't see ourselves through the eyes of others.

We don't listen to compliments because we're modest and have a sense of humbleness that doesn't feed our ego.

We live and lead different livelihoods but we all go through hardships.

We all, sometimes, want to curl up into our beds, nestle ourselves in the centre and cry ourselves to sleep because we're afraid and depressed.

We cry because we've been hurt, but scars don't always go away.

We have scars to remind us of the bad times, how fortune hasn't favoured us and fate has lacked on our path, be it career or general life.

We hate ourselves for certain aspects that we know we shouldn't, and we refuse to get help for it.

We refuse to get help for our issues because we're scared and tentative about facing inevitable regret, fear, pain and resurfacing old wounds.

It's up to you what you do with these choices. Whether you want to get better or not. You still have time and the chance for the better things.

As for me, I do not. I feel my time has run out in some aspects. I don't have some of those options above. When I did, I either passed them up, didn't listen to inherit the truth or I was simply at an adolescent age where I didn't understand it.

For me, a whole lot of things in my life has come to an end. I won't get any of that back. What's left is regret, self-pity, sorrow, hate and desire. The only thing that over-rules those few things is my love. I still love. But I also still hate. And the hate wants to win. Love is strong, but the hate is stronger.

I'm too bitter on the inside to remember anything positive and to move on from some things that took place for me. Childhood was rough. Teen years were fun. Early adulthood? Oh, dear. I never had a chance to grow up like a regular child, and it does show a lot. It damaged me inside. Trust was lost, faith was killed and my heart was hurt. Unfortunately, I can't unsee or un-know some things.

I don't have any high opinions on myself. I have no reason to be happy. I have little care or half a mind to mind if anything bad happens again. Which I know it will. My time is done, somehow I know it. Nothing works out. It just doesn't. I don't care enough about me to let myself stay in a good place, when I was so denied all the good things. I'm beaten up to the point of numbness and I find it hard to heal properly and move on.

I don't know. If I had one thing to say, it would probably be: ''What did I ever do to you?''

And now I'm wondering how much was my fault. Probably all of it. It gets clearer some days to me that it's likely.

That one line: ''That's life, though, isn't it?'', that pessimistic phrase that I've heard all my life, it really irritates me. Being defeatist is one thing, but being tired, broken and beaten up is another entirely. There is a difference.

Mmm. Excuse me.

Comments

[B_25]

Seems like you have the clarity to know yourself well enough to improve from the past and overcome obstacles of it in the present. Blogging is a great way to understand yourself better. Keep on keeping on. I used to hate 'that's life' as it infuriates. It doesn't provide an answer.

But when Frank sang it, he did so, with the intent of rising people. Of dusting yourself off from what happened as there are some pains that come in life. They are caused to a reason to an extent and sometimes we are powerless for it. Yet we dust ourselves off and get back in the race.

Be well to do well homie.