Wednesday, April 02, 2014

Playing with knives

I thought I was  on the razor edge of depression. Seems like I have already fallen. Somedays I believe me when I tell myself that I am alright. Oscar winning performances can somewhat fool some friends into thinking I am ok. At least I think they are fooled. Yet on other days, I can't lie to myself. I will never be ok anymore. I lost some pieces of me and I can't ever be whole.

I learnt how a friend lost her sister suddenly. And another acquaintance lost his close friend to suicide. I have spent hours stalking their Facebook reading the beautiful notes left behind by their loved  ones. And I feel jealous of all the love they had in their lives and the difference they made. I feel jealous that one had the courage to take her own life.

And I think about my own mortality. How empty my own service would be. How stark my own page would be. How discouraging. I don't have the will or motivation to carry on and neither the courage to end it all. To continually feel  deserving of hurt is of course not healthy but I can't deny what I feel.

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