I need to write.
I need to talk to myself. A proper honest heart to heart talk with me.
I have started to write to myself so many times but honesty with yourself isnt as easy as the inspirational talkers make it sound. It is not so black-and-white. It is not something you can just get up and do because I have been trying. And failing.
I have lots of letters like this. That start out like this. With me explaining how i’m finding it so hard to communicate with myself. But I may have actually figured out why. I have spent so many years writing for and to other people that when I actually get down to writing to me I have no one but an audience in mind that I am writing to.
And this isnt a friendly audience. It is the kind that is just sitting and waiting for me to fuck up. It is the kind of audience that wont let me put my demons on paper without me feeling smaller and shittier and much more worthless than I already do about myself.
I guess that is what happens when you are constantly trying to prove to the world that you are much more than they think you are. You are constantly stuck in this place where you cannot say anything positive to yourself, you cannot convince yourself that you are any better.
I mean, look at me. I have sat to talk to myself so many times. I have sat down to write myself a love letter, to convince myself that I am worth something but I can never finish it because the voices in my head, the voices in my life are much more stronger than I am.
Yesterday I was having the blues and I reached out to a young woman that has always had my back and has been through practically everything I have been through only she has triumphed over her struggles whereas I am still learning how to survive this kind of world.
I was telling her of the loneliness I have been feeling. See. I was naïve for so long. I always thought that when everything in my life, career wise, was going well, then i’d be fine. I’d be content and everything else will just fall into place and i’d find myself in a pool of happiness surrounded by my success.
But it hasnt been that way. The loneliness has been creeping up and everything seems pointless. The relationships i have and have made seem pointless. I seem pointless.
Last week I thought of killing myself. I could barely get myself up to do anything. I couldnt think of a single thing that made me happy and I just wanted to not exist. I wanted to be engulfed in an eternal blackness that would swallow me up and keep me there. But being dead scares me, not knowing what happens in the after life scares me.
When the people that are supposed to love you and believe in you fail to do that, it leaves a huge hole in your life. When you fail to become the things that they want you to become, when you become a failure because your successes are not their idea of success, when they have been preaching to you for a while about how you will amount to nothing, you start believing these things. And you become nothing.
There is nothing more lonely than realising you are alone. Everyone is alone but a lot of people do not acknowledge this. And that I guess is how most people cope. How most people survive. I do not know how those that realise their aloness survive. Maybe it is through writing. Maybe it is through books that you lose yourself into. Maybe it is suicide.
I do not know. But i’m struggling with finding happiness. I’m struggling with not feeling alone.