Living Alone With Me

All I want is for someone to be there for me to fall back on, but thus far, nobody has been able to manage coping with me. Often it’s like nobody I know can understand me, mom just doesn't get it. I can see she's trying but it's all hurting her, I'm a hindrance to her. There've been men that have tried but they haven't succeeded. The people who understand the most have themselves to deal with, and there's not always going to be someone there to fall asleep with, I'm not always going to be able to fall asleep soundly. There are always things on my mind, thoughts whirring around. People out there are always pushing me, shoving me. Then I'm left in a corner alone, dark and isolated. Nobody understands me like I do, and so often it seems nobody tries to. Professionals, yes, they do try, eventually, they'll catch up with you, they might just manage to save me from you. Who are you? I don't know but you're fucking evil and I feel so much hatred towards you. I wish you'd leave my life, and just let me survive. It will never be that easy for me, you're always here, whispering in my ear. Doubt, paranoia, anxiety, love, hate. They will never go away. "Stop telling me what to do, stop telling me which route to choose", I want to scream. I can't scream because I love you too much. So again I'll get upset and you'll tell me not to bother. But it's not a choice, you see. This is not who I'm choosing to be. I'm already trying so hard. I'm trying not to hide. And so what if I want to go out and become legless, these are things that everybody can do, I want to do it too. Is that such a crime? I'm doing so much for you, I get out of bed at some stage and I get dressed, I see people and I write. This really isn't me wasting time, I'm trying to take the most from life. I need a home. That's what I don't have, I've had it before, it's lovely, now I'm back on dependancy. I hate life this way, hate seeing you look at me. Because all I see in your eyes is disappointment and sorrow. I feel violated by the reflection of me, it's screaming "Look at me, look at the mess I've become". I wish I could've been a better woman. I wish they could see how hard I'm trying, but they don't understand mental illness, not even I do, why do I feel this way, why do I think these things? Well, I don't know. And maybe it's not important to know. It's hard, that's easy enough to show. Just try, please. All of you, just try a bit harder to see how difficult it can be, living alone with me.