Let's catch up.

I guess a blog is long overdue for me. I've been writing 'journal entries' in Microsoft Word Processor and saving it in a hidden folder on my laptop. But It just sits there, collecting dust. Even if no one read this, or even cares doesn't matter to me. I'm doing this for me, and no one else. However, if I help or touch even one person. I'd be overwhelmed with that too. So here is the first entry from my hidden journal:

June 19, 2008.
12:13 a.m.
I guess writing is just a little more healthy than trying to kill myself without actually pulling the trigger. You know, I’m not afraid to die, but suicide scares me. I just wish sometimes I couldn’t feel pain, heartbreak. I’ve lost everything and everyone around me. Sometimes by choice, sometimes not. What’s harder to cope with? I have no idea. I think that’s why I have such a difficult time opening up to so much people. Everyone I’ve ever trusted or loved has abandoned me. Friends, family, even my parents. I think I’ve trained myself not to love or trust. Sometimes I find myself convincing myself to love someone. I honestly don’t know if I actually love someone, or I lie to myself. It’s that bad. More times than once I imagine myself just running, and not stopping. Leaving everyone and everything behind. Lately I’ve found myself running at ungodly hours of the night. Hoping that maybe I’ll just runaway from this place. People have different ways of coping, I’ve tried everything that everyone suggests. Run, write, sleep. Typical text book bullshit. “Everything happens for a reason Jeremy”. Seriously, I’ve heard that everyday since I was about ten. From family, friends, teachers, counselors, therapists. Why? What? If everything happened for a reason, I want to know why. What did I do to deserve this? Why me? I have so many questions that no one can answer. Truthfully, without sugar coating anything. I’m aware that I’m fucked up. I had so much going for me before, but like always, I fucked it up. It’s my fault that I have this disorder, this stupid fucking handicap that took everything away from me. What did I do to deserve this? For more than half of my life, I’ve lived with it. Hiding it from the world. I don’t want special treatment from people, or weird looks, or even sympathy. I don’t want to hear “I know how you feel” because no, you don’t. I act as if nothing is wrong, so everyone believes that there isn’t anything wrong. How the hell am I supposed to be honest with people if everyone is just going to leave me. I’ve never known so many people in my life, yet feel so alone. I am alone. I need to face the facts. How can anyone understand me if I don’t understand myself? I have no reason to smile, to laugh or to live. The only thing keeping me here is the shame of dying. I can’t handle this anymore, I don’t know how to handle this anymore. I just want to go away. Have everything I’ve ever known, everyone I’ve ever known, everyone I ever thought I loved. I want all of that to just, disappear. I’m not healthy, physically or mentally. I’m hanging on a string, that’s slowly aging. It won’t be able to keep me hanging forever. It’s just a matter of time. The most I’ll be is a MySpace bulletin, some other statistic. The string holding me is breaking, and I’m running out of the strength to hold on. I know I’m not making good choices, I mean at this point in my life I should be able to tell the difference between right and wrong. But it helps me cope with everyday. Making the right choices in my life never got me anywhere, so what’s the point right? This is going to sound totally cliché, but I’ve reached my limit, and I don’t know what to do. I honestly want to see what the reason for going through all of this is. If there really is a reason. I’m curious to know what’s out there. But I don’t know how to deal with this. I’ve been trying to accept that I have a disorder. But I just can’t. How am I supposed to accept something as crippling as this. I’ve lost everything to this. My family, friends, relationships, my future. All because of this disease I have. I can’t take it. I’ve lost the will to anything, include live. I’m not suicidal. But I’m not afraid anymore. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to feel anything anymore. I want to dream forever. But knowing my lucky streak, it’ll turn into a nightmare that I can’t wake up from. My life. . This nightmare. I wish I could wake up.