Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Freedom

If I hadn't left rehab early, today would've been my first day out. It's strange how much and how little has happened since I flew from Bacolod. I found out my life as I knew it has dissolved and run down the drain (so strange considering I'm not supposed to have any major life changes for the next year but then again is it really a change in your life to completely change your life?), I've found out that despite being with family I am homesick for my cats and boyfriend and that makes my skin crawl with loneliness even when I'm playing with my baby brother, I have started my slow descent back into infancy - I can't go out I don't trust myself to go out no one trusts me to go out I sleep on a couch I don't do anything I don't have any plans I just hang out with my dad I am an invalid in society a nothing a no one a non important exempt from statistics, I've discovered what it feels like to not have any place to go to that really feels like home where I can truly be myself (except when visiting said boyfriend, there his arms can be my four walls), I've done nothing and walked so much and lost no weight and cried a lot. I also found out today that within the first week of my being admitted my boyfriend went on a date with another girl because he thought we were over (perfectly logical though my heart screams in protest - I was wild and out of control and I technically broke up with him since he wouldn't let me buy more rum and I punched him and I was terrible) and he kissed her and careful where you step my guts are all over the floor. That's what it feels like - like someone carved me open with a butter knife and made abstract art with my large intestine. 

He kissed her he kissed her he kissed her while I was curling up in my hospital bed then my psych ward bed dreaming about him and thinking of his face her face was touching his face and I want to scream if screams could be pronounced with sadness. 

Sometimes I want to go back to rehab. There is no place for me in the lives of everyone who is now forced to take care of me. I am a burden and a nuisance and I am in the way. It was easier in rehab. All I had to do was feel and find out why I felt those things. Here I should be better and I can't mope around all day even when my arms and legs feel like lead I try to be productive and look for a job so my dad doesn't worry but sometimes all I want to do is sit and cry and I don't think that's such a bad thing - being alive means feeling feelings right?

I'm confused and sad and so so very homesick all the time and I haven't lost any weight so why even bother?

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