Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst July 21, 2010Posted by Lauren Cooke in Depression, Life, Chatter & Politics, Uncategorized.
Tags: break ups, Depression, Life, relationships, sadness
I have a flawed personality. It is damaged goods on so many levels. I find things sad that others find happy. I can feel lonely when surrounded by thousands of people. I trust people too much. I harbor the permanently unfulfilled believe that in the end, no matter how much shit it throws at you, life will give you something nice in the end.
One of my main characteristics has always been that I don’t love easily. I have a select group of friends whom I adore, but I don’t let them know me very easily at all. I have historically avoided relationships like the plague,being convinced that as such a boring and idiotic person it is only opening myself up to hurt to give myself to someone completely and utterly.
Another characteristic is a complete lack of self-esteem. I like the person I am, and would never want to change my basic self, but I don’t believe I deserve good things. I don’t feel that anything nice is meant to happen to me, and if it does I spend most of my time waiting for it to end. I look in the mirror and nine times out of ten I am disappointed with what I find staring back at myself. I wish I was more entertaining, more reliable, more intelligent. I wish I was prettier, more confident.
I am, as you may have gathered, not very happy at the moment. I am so very alone, and so bitterly sad. Life, for a few weeks, has been starting to look up. All the problems of the past few months – Ben and I breaking up, my new flat falling through, being homeless, not being able to find a flat, or a flatmate, were starting to resolve themselves. I have a new house now, and a new housemate. I was at the beginning of a new relationship which foolishly I let myself get my hopes up about. Just when things were looking cheery, everything turned upside-down again and I have been floored somewhat. I hurt inside, and I can’t stop crying. I am, in short, pathetic and ridiculous and utterly utterly letting myself down in every way shape and form that I can.
I will, no doubt, be fine. I have been down in the dumps before, and I like to think that actually it is good that I can now feel emotions, both ups and downs, like a normal non-depressed person. Even so, however, it hurts ridiculously, and when all I need is a hug there isn’t anyone around to give it. In fact, the person I would pribably appreciate a hug from most is no doubt removed from my life for the forseeable future.
Good god, life is shit. I hate it.
As the proverb goes, it is not a matter of absence making the heart grow fonder, but more that you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.