Everything in my life feels wrong lately. Right now I’m sitting in a cafe, on my own. I just had a meal and some coffee. Sitting here thinking, watching the world outside the window functioning in a normal way, while at the same time I am falling apart, again. Nothing is the same, everything is changing. And I know change is constant, everything is temporary and impermanent, but right now I just can’t find a way of accepting this. Everything feels wrong and it seems to get worse.
I walked the streets, made my way back to the station, waiting for my bus to arrive. The wind gently strokes my cheeks and wipes the tears from my face. I miss the feeling of being in the city. There is something to it I can’t quite explain. The way Utrecht makes me feel in the early evening reminds me of London. I recall walking the streets, breathing in the air of the unknown but familair city. I need one year and then I’ll be back, I swear. I made this promise to myself. It is the only thing keeping me grounded these days.
Work is killing me, exhausting me and makes me more anxious than it should. I hate following commands and serving other people. People look at me like I’m a nothing, like there’s nothing more to me than the function I embody in that moment. I’m so much more than that. I am capable of much more things, I know. I don’t enjoy working at all, but I need to money to follow my dreams. But it’s harder, harder than I imagined it to be. And the money I’m earning is nothing, it feels like exploitation. And I feel I don’t belong. Everything is happening and I’m on the outside looking in. New to this kind of world, to these kind of people. I understand, but I feel lonely. I feel like I’ve become a slave of this system. Something I swore to myself I’d never become, but just look at me now. I’m stuck, and I don’t know how to get out. It’s killing me, it’s killing me.
Should I go back to university? Should I force myself again to study until my eyes bleed? I can’t, although a part of me wants to. Wants to belong in that atmosphere again, getting intellectual again. I don’t know if I can, if I want to, what is best.
Yesterday I saw my psychiatrist again, after a long time. It was good talking to her. She told me I shouldn’t be this hard on myself and taking more care by spending more time doing things that energize me, like making music. But it’s hard. There don’t seem to be a mean between two extremes. But yes, that’s me. A girl of extremes, there is no inbetween, never was, never will be.
Mostly I am tired of the broken hearts. It tears me apart everytime. I’ve been through three heartbreaks since January and still can’t seem to find a way of leaving it behind me, of letting it go. I’m being used by ‘good intentions’ and bruised like never before. People promise and promise, they talk and talk, but are no longer interested once they’ve seen your dark side. They are lazy, running away from responsibility. Looking out for no one, chasing the fun, like it is that easy. I’ve learned it the hard way, but still I get fooled by the man with the masks, the beautiful words that are meaningless. I swore to myself to let nobody in, yet everytime I do it again, let him in and tell myself it’s different this time. It never is. I’m hurt. Haunted by memories and thoughts about how it used to be or how it was meant to be.
When I look at myself in the mirror, I am happy. I love the way I’ve become. It makes me wonder what makes people run away from me all the time. Is the image I have of myself completely wrong or fixed? It makes me want to hide away and to never ever open up again.