Strange how we decorate pain.
Margaret Atwood, from Oh (via splitterherzen)
Reblogged from IV

Good question…

What seems to be the bigger conflict for you? The way you respond to life, or the way life is responding to you?

It’s a vicious circle but I think the conflict start from the way I respond to life.  It’s like I have a filter…I can’t seem to retain any good memory…I can only recall shitty things that happen to me…Worse, I have a talent to them into shit.

I don’t believe in destiny.  I believe we made our path.  Now the path that we choose is our choice, but sometimes the obstacles on that path are just  too much to bare. 

Yup, It’s a vicious circle… negative thoughts, negative words, negative everything.  I know I’m not optimist in general, but even my surroundings are having a hard time understanding my bad luck.  Sometimes I feel cursed. Every move, every steps are bad ones.  Murphy’s law always applies to me; always.

I was wired like that.  I’m fighting with all my might to change that wiring…but I’m no mechanic.  I feel like life is giving me lemon…more lemon than I can possibly handle.  I just can’t  make that much lemonade. I guess…

I’m going back to mindfulness meditation…I know it helped me a lot in the past…We’ll see.

What about you…What seems to be the bigger conflict for you? The way you respond to life, or the way life is responding to you?

Fairness…

What’s the point of being good?

 Why do we thrive to look good? To obey? To be accepted?  To please God?  To feel like we have a purpose?  To feel like we belong?  I sure don’t feel that way.

 I’m not empty anymore…the emptiness left so that the rage against this life could take place place.  I can feel it burning; I can feel it eating my guts, crushing my bones killing my heart.   I’m full of hatred.  I’m full of pain.  I don’t think I can take much more shit…

I hate my mom for bringing me to this life. I hate everyone around me that tried to make me believe life was great.  I hate all of those who actually believe that life is great.  Life is a pile of shit with bits and pieces of beauty. 

 I hate myself for bringing my daughter in this shit life…I hate myself for lying to her everyday…making her believe that this life can be good…I really hope she can become one of them…one of the happy people I hate so much.

I’m suffocating. 

I obey the law.  I follow the rules.  If I don’t, I feel unworthy.  If I don’t I feel like I don’t deserve to live… but in my heart I’m a rebel.  All I want to do is quit, lie, and leave.  All I want is to tell the people of this world to go fuck themselves.  I want to be free.  I want out. 

 I’m restless.

 What’s the point of being good?  I don’t know… I’ve been waiting for a reward…well I’m still waiting.  I see all these people doing wrong, being rude…and yet having a blast.  Me, I work my ass off,  I’m broke like hell, I have issues with food, and I have the body of an old fat lady but I feel like a teenager… I feel like I’m being punished.  I often feel like I was not suppose to be alive. 

That moment, when both my mother and I almost died before I was born…that was the moment I should have gave in.  She told me I was not wanted, I was an accident.  So, why I’m still breathing?  Why was I suicidal as a pre-teen?  Why did nobody try to help me?  Why didn’t I kill myself then?  Because it would not have been well seen…that’s probably why.

I told myself countless lies to survive.  It works… until it doesn’t work anymore.

I’m tired of trying.  I’m tired of trying to understand.  I’m tired of trying to make sense out of things.  I’m tired of making myself believe I’ll be eventually ok.  I’m tired of dreaming I will enjoy this life at one point.   I need a break. I need more proof.  I’m tired of trying to survive.  I want to live.  I want to live fully…but I the same time I want to die.

I’m a caterpillar in its cocoon hoping to become a beautiful butterfly…but unfortunately, I’m a moth.  Every single time I try, I’m a stupid moth. 

It’s not enough.

I feel like it will never be enough.  I will never be enough.  I will never be satisfied.  My soul is an infinite gap … my pain, more infinite.  My relationship with my husband was the only true passion I allowed myself to live fully.  I have lived it to the fullest against anybody who would not accept our love.  Our love was pure, it was intense…I don’t think I ever love like that…Even today…19 years later, I believe he is my soul mate.  I love him deeply…that’s why I think he would be better off without me.  He does not deserve to live that life of misery.

I wont give up because I can’t…but I want to… every single day I want to.  I cannot allow myself…it would not be fair to everybody that counts in my life…that being said; it’s not fair to me…

 And yet, I accept it. 

People think they know you. They think they know how you’re handling a situation. But the truth is no one knows. No one knows what happens after you leave them, when you’re lying in bed or sitting over your breakfast alone and all you want to do is cry or scream. They don’t know what’s going on inside your head—the mind-numbing cocktail of anger and sadness and guilt. This isn’t their fault. They just don’t know. And so they pretend and they say you’re doing great when you’re really not. And this makes everyone feel better. Everybody but you.
— William H. Woodwell Jr. (via splitterherzen)
Reblogged from IV
It is a lonely feeling when someone you care about becomes a stranger.
— Lemony Snicket, When Did You See Her Last? (via splitterherzen)
Reblogged from IV
Nothing thicker than a knife’s blade separates happiness from melancholy.
— Virginia Woolf, Orlando (via splitterherzen)
Reblogged from IV
Tags: quote
You are significant without a significant other.
— Shauna Niequist, at Lipscomb University’s chapel this morning  (via middecember)
Life is too short to waste any amount of time on wondering what other people think about you. In the first place, if they had better things going on in their lives, they wouldn’t have the time to sit around and talk about you.
— Taurus (via murmurrs)