The dead dreamer
Life of a dead girl in a dream
Never thought i would start writing diary entries again. I stopped writing two years ago when i was in quite a depressed and suicidal state. I remember those days ,i would hold the pen wanting to write something,anything. but recalling those horrible memories would make me cry. I always considered my diary as my best friend but i couldn't confide in it anymore. My heart was broken,my trust broken. I was very very lonely ,sad. I knew that everyone hated and ignored me. My existence felt worthless and wasteful. I just wanted friends or someone who made me feel like i was needed,protected. I guess i asked for too much. Nobody in this world cares. People only care after the tragedy has occurred but do nothing to prevent it. Everyone knew that i was not okay. Everyone could see my failing health,drastic weight loss,pale tired face, baggy eyes. Everyone asked why i looked like this or that. But nobody cared for the reason behind it. When i tried to open up,people would blame me. My fault. Nobody had time to listen to reasons or situations,they just wanted short convincing answers.
You know ,i have only heard in movies and dramas how broken heart feels like. I would often laugh it off, but now i know how it feels. I felt it first handed. It feels like something is stretching inside your chest . A ripping pain shoots in intervals through your chest as unpleasant memories shows up in your mind. You start to wonder why do i have to go through such a pain? what did i do to deserve this?why me? All i ever wanted was....It 's hard to breath in that situation. It's suffocating . you cry and cry till your eyes and head hurt and you fall asleep. Then you wake up only to feel more tired and drained of life. Hunger leaves the chat. one thing leads to another and everything is out of order. A mess. You feel like no matter what you do,you fail. A failure. Even if you win a competition or get some achievement ,you feel like a loser. In my case ,no one would cheer for me or congratulate me.Not even my parents. well, my parents are rarely home so it doesn't matter. when i was a child i have tried to tell them i won this or achieved that but they never cared.So i stopped. I had a very lonely childhood. i wished at least my teenage years would be not that lonely. My parents moved to a new place,like they move every two to three years. I met him there..a cheerful,happy person full of life and energy. He was a good friend.He told me he liked me and i believed it.He was good looking. so i tried, tried my best to look beautiful.I worked out like crazy and got my dream figure. Everyone called me beautiful. Everyone but him. some nights he would reply to my messages to call me sexy (a compliment i never liked) then try to have sex chat with me, which i always refused to. I couldn't understand why he would even think of that? He knew that i was sexually harassed as a kid and had trust issues.Never in this world will i ever believe a man with my body.
He Insulted me in front of everyone on regular basis. Never texted back on time. Never called. Never apologized, I was annoying to him. I was like a stupid bitch who would follow him everywhere no matter how many times he kicked me. I hoped , he could see it...my condition. How desperate i was to believe that he cared at least a bit about me, That he did not abandon me in my worst times ,that someone would tell me that i am worthy to live...But the truth was he had changed..or maybe that was his true self.
Later ,i found out he already had a girlfriend for 5 years. I met her . She was a good girl. pretty and kind. I was jealous but even then i thought if she is the one he wants then i would ..leave. After all,he never loved me. At least we could be friends like before.
He had cheated on her with her best friend before . My deepest secrets,my weakness,became his weapons.He destroyed my reputation calling me a slut, whore ,prostitute. I became the most famous slut. Guys would try to become my "friend" . They all knew i was a lonely person and had no girlfriends because i was a "slut", they would use that as an excuse to talk to me, saying 'if you feel lonely you can talk to me,let me be your friend".
I hated myself. I hate to be called pretty, it feels as if they are calling me a slut. I hated to get out of bed, out of my room ,meet people. I hated breathing, But mostly,i hated the fact that i believed him. Despite all odds, i believed he cared..when all my 'friends' turned their backs on me ,i believed he wouldn't. Because i told him about me,the real me. I exposed myself to him.he knew how much I trusted him . I believed even if he couldn't love me ,he would never hurt me. Why would he?
yeah. Why would he?
Because it was just fun for him.
Loneliness crippled me. Birthdays were the worst. I knew no one would wish me. I hated remembering my birthday. It would just remind me how lonely i am.
i could hear voices, telling me to die. I knew it was all in my head but felt too real. I tried too kill myself more than once. i lost around 40 kgs /88 pounds in 2 months & got severely anemic with Hb level around 4.6 and my grades dropped really low.
Now looking back,I don't know how in the world i survived all that.