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I think I love people that don't love me because I'm scared of worrying people. The people that really care notice things, and they worry. But when all he loved was my body, it was easy to hide everything. I could continue destroying myself, I just had to be strategic where I took it out on myself. Short shorts and t-shirts can hide more than you'd think. When you don't go on dates, it's easy to hide that you aren't eating. I could pretend to be okay for an hour or two each day, it was easy. It was so fucking easy to just be a body. I wasn't depressed, I wasn't anxious, I wasn't relapsing. I was my body and that was it. He didn't care so he never noticed. And I think that's why I loved him so much, he cared about me as much as I cared about myself.
You convinced me that I haven't done anything meaningful for anyone and that my scars will make me ugly for the rest of my life. It hurts. Someday I will prove you wrong and love myself again, but right now I want to make sure no one ever feels like I do ever again. No one else deserves to stay awake at night convincing themselves to keep fighting, no one else deserves to feel physically sick after finally eating a meal that day.
It hurts so bad. It's become a tangible thing now, I can almost reach out and touch the hurt that's around me. It's in the air constantly surrounding me, completely invisible but impossible to ignore. Air becomes wind and wind mixes with an ocean of sadness and suddenly I'm in the middle of a hurricane, fighting with everything within me to make it out alive. I do. I build up the courage and go out on the ocean again, enjoying the waves and the way they disrupt my thoughts. I know the waves will pull me under soon, but until then I am simply enjoying the distraction.
I wish I was a bitch. But I'm not. If I was, I would've dropped you the very first time you ditched me because I didn't want to put out. Instead, I came back and continued to try to help you through your family stuff. I never would have hung out with you after you disrespected my boundaries multiple times. Yet, I did not only continue to be your friend but I also allowed you to disrespect those boundaries for years afterward. If I was really a bitch, the first time you put your hands on me would've been the last. But we both know that's not the case.
Everyone wants me to love myself, and I can't yet. There are much more important things to do, so many other people to check on. She called me selfish my entire childhood if I put my happiness above someone else’s, doesn’t that just make her right? So obviously I have to put them first, I have to take care of everyone else before I take care of myself. But that’s okay because I love them. I love everybody. I have love for everyone that’s ever been in my life, no matter if they’re still in it or if that had to leave. I’ll love them when they stop loving me. I’ll love them even if they never loved me because that’s just how it goes. Even if I knew how to hate people, I wouldn’t. That would be selfish. Everyone is important, and everyone needs to be cared for before I start thinking about myself.
I’m not stupid. I know the way I think isn’t healthy. I know not giving a shit about myself isn’t good. But, it’s okay. Because it will never kill me. I’m not too far gone to where I believe that people wouldn’t miss me, I have friends and family that would. I couldn’t ever hurt them. But it’s not like I’m not acknowledging what’s happening, I’m aware that my thought process is concerning. Last night, I was in the car with my friend and I was in the passenger seat. She was going to make a left-hand turn and a car was coming. She asked me if she thought she could make it and I told her not to risk it because I didn’t want us to get hit and with me being in the passenger seat, I’d be the first point of impact and I was worried that my body would somehow hurt her. I didn't care if I got hurt, it was the idea of my friend getting hurt by my body being thrown around the car that scared me. So yeah, I know that’s not a good way to think. I know it can be self-destructive and toxic. But, if it isn’t going to kill me, does it really matter? It’s kept me from being bitter and hating the people that have hurt me. I legitimately care about my friends’ well being. I check on them no matter what’s going on in my life. I forgive everyone, which I know isn’t always a good thing. Hell, a kid assaulted me and I continued to be his friend for another year. The only reason we aren’t friends anymore is because he wanted to leave, and I had to respect that. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him, which is totally fucked. The last thing I told him was that I was always going to be there if he needed someone, and I meant it. My friends would be livid if they knew the people I was still talking to, but that’s because they want me to be happy. I don’t want to be happy, I want everyone else to be happy. If that means staying up every night to talk to the boy that broke my heart, then that’s what I’ll do. I don’t have time to care about myself, which is okay. Once everyone else in my life is happy and cared for, I’ll take care of me. Until then, I’m okay with putting my happiness on hold.