After having my small mini melt down earlier today I had to take a step back and breath.
I had to remember that 8 years ago today. I tried to commit suicide. I know not such a lovely memory is it ? Well its is a part of my past and it happened. I have the scar on my wrist to prove my ignorance. Over. Love.
I was 19. Depressed. Drunk. Lonely. My ex boyfriend was sending me nasty text messages that he never loved me and all that mean stuff one says. I thought then that was it for me. I remember it through my drunken haze. The blood dripping cold of my finger tips hitting the floor of my living room. The awful scream my mother made when she found me. We have never talked about it. What is there to talk about? I cleaned up my mess and as usual apologized for my actions. Moved on.
I have moved on from my ex believe me. We are friends, civil and I wish him the best. What I haven’t moved on from, is that my ignorance and pain still haunts me. it will always haunt me because I bare the scars.
Now with my current boyfriend he doesn’t like this holiday period and thinks its stupid and hates it so much that he in away hates buying anything because its money to the businesses. I understand. I don’t ask for much. Do I like gifts? Yes. Of course who doesn’t? But I agree with him that I don’t need a fucking holiday to have him show me he loves me.
It is insane that things are the way that they are for me. I didn’t think it was going to be like this. I wouldn’t have dreamed of this. But here I am. And here I am living. That is something I should be more proud of actually. I was trying to end my life today 8 years ago. But here I am. Back in the house I tried. Trying to woo my boyfriend to hopefully put a ring my finger and make me his wife.
Its just the things I think of late at night when I have work in the morning and been drinking. Isn’t funny?