I have been doing OK overall since my post about my emotions (re: suicide hotline).
I pass by the place where my car accident happened nearly every day. The school I go to is one hour away from I live so I travel two hours to and from school, total.
It is weird to say that God knows what is going to happen before it happens, and that everything happens for a reason. It is especially weird when I say it in the context of my car accident.
It sort of does feel like it happened for a reason, though. I find it easier to dispel my anger and sadness and try to be grateful for the life I live. I feel like I take everything that I have less for granted. Sure, it’s only been a few days but I feel a sort of clarity in my heart. I feel some sort of feeling in my chest when I think, yes, I believe in God.
(The car I had an accident in).
I know that a higher power saved me. I grew up being raised catholic and explored Christianity one year when I went to Christian school. It only feels natural to say that the higher power I believe in is Jesus Christ.
Perhaps, in a weird, messed up way, this is what was meant to happen. This is what was supposed to happen to me.
I feel very weird about my car accident.
I had a car accident last night.
I was told that what happened to me was a miracle because my car is entirely fucked up.
It is always a good feeling when you call the suicide hotline and they tell you to come in during business hours for help lol.
Did you see that? Did you see my sarcasm?
It’s funny how not even the people that are being paid to care about you, care about you.
I am fucked up and I am broken and no one loves me or cares about me. Everyone is tired of me. I am tiresome. I am a burden. I am not good for anything. I try. I try. I tried. I can’t. I cannot. Everything hurts. My heart hurts. My body hurts. I am hurt. I am broken.
It is 12:30 in the morning. I feel very broken. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. Tearing itself apart.
Existing is hard sometimes. This is what my text messages have been consisting of lately. Apologies and confusion.
Sometimes, I feel like in relationships with me, the love and surprises I have for one person are on a limited supply. Not that the love I have for them ever runs out but that they are constantly wringing me and wringing me out for my love, that they just get used to it. So it doesn’t feel “special” anymore. And I’ll just be thrown away, like an old, dirty towel that has been wrung out beyond it’s life span.