Worst feeling.

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I hope my tablet successfully uploaded the picture upon this sentence. This quote from The Vampire Diaries (season 4) reminds me of myself. That’s how I currently feel. I don’t know what happened to me. Right now I’m writing to keep myself busy until the time has passed I need to wait after dinner to purge. In my opinion, 15 minutes after a meal is perfect. And why am I doing this? The perfection I’m looking for doesn’t exist in this world and I know it, but I chase it anyway and I’d rather die than give up on this stupid delusional dream. There’s a hole inside of me that can’t be filled. Believe me, I tried to fill it with anything possible. People, food, feelings, self harm, devastation, music, hobbies, passions, disorders, recovery, alcohol, drugs, whatever. Right now I’m trying to fill it with sex although I already know it’s not gonna work. I just need something to keep me from completely going insane. I don’t wanna go back into a damn psychiatric or something. Nothing is cured in there.

Also, I don’t want a new year. The last few have already been so terrible, it’s only gonna get worse this time! 365 new days, but the same old shit. I spent Sylvester drunk and high all the time cuz I wouldn’t have been able to make it through otherwise. I tried it without any drugs the past two Sylvester nights, but I ended up in my bed with a lot of blades and blood. And self hatred. I will never do ‘real’ drugs like pills, shots and syringes again, but right now I feel like I need alcohol and weed sometimes (like twice a week) cuz it’s the only way for me to calm down. It makes me feel numb, fearless, careless, satisfied and free. Without the stuff, I’m always jittery, nervous and overthinking- and that gets too exhausting for me after some time.
I’m just trying to think positive about the new year, but I really can’t. It’s like I’m always only getting worse. When is this pain going to end? When it ends me? No matter how good I feel, a part of me is ALWAYS dead! I can’t remember myself without this rotting piece in my soul. But how can I kill this monster without killing myself?

During my last session before Christmas with my therapist, she asked me a question that keeps haunting me. “How do you imagine your perfect life?”
It took some time for me to answer. In a beautiful Victorian gothic house somewhere in my home state Wisconsin or another beautiful one like California or Louisiana, I answered. I’d have a young daughter, at least five dogs and a husband I would stay together with for the rest of my life- not because of the child, because of true, eternal love. We’d live in a small town to be able to have a huge garden and peace, but near a big city for shopping and whatever. I would have had graduated college (this tense is confusing) and now work with the FBI or something cool like that cuz that has ALWAYS been my dream job. Every Christmas , we’d fly to Germany and visit my sister there because I’m 100% sure she won’t want to come back to the United States. I’d be healthy, happy, and of course, still vegan and a goth girl like I’ve always been. And I would have a family. Finally.
I wish I had this life, but I actually don’t think I’ll ever make this dream come true. There is no cure, no eternal love and no great life for me out there.
We’re born alone and we die alone and what happens in between is only a illusion we create to feel like we belong somewhere and to someone, but we don’t. We all live our own life and it will always end up the same way:
Dead and alone, forever.
And I don’t think I can make it through at least 50 more years until then. No matter how damn hard I’ll try to stay strong. Right now I’m still trying, but I’m not sure for how long I’ll keep doing that…

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