butterfly wings

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i dont know when i had become so cowardly and afraid
it's as if i found something to live for and it felt as though i will be robbed away of it.
I got so scared and i felt like i stripped down my wall for that one moment
and the helplessness feeling just rush through.

I hate it.

I hate being bedridden and not being to do my work/study
especially when so much is being rode on my shoulders this semester
i hate the fucking feeling of being such a burden and worrying others.
i hate knowing that im reduced to a self that can only rely on people

I hate it.

i hate how overwhelmed my feelings are.
how much i have to reason out with myself
i hated how i always cry so easily
without even meaning to
i hated how i feel like a fucking mess.

it felt like a disaster has ripped through me.

First Chapter

I don't recognise the person I see in the mirror these days.
I feel like a part of me never gotten the rest it deserves,

that I'm always frantically rushing around trying to make sure 

that things are okay, people are okay, relationship/friendship are okay.

there comes a point where a part of me just shut down and internally just decided to shut itself, take the time off to not be okay and just keep shut. 

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I just recently saw a few stuff/been in some stuff that make me kindda well. for the lack of word to explain myself - contemplative. 

- death life suicide birth-

I wonder whether it is because i have been my bouts of suicide episodes, or that I recently fell into depression that I felt so strongly on this matter. Doesn't mean a person who has loved ones won't face suicide, which makes matter worse for me was to keep hiding that I'm okay or to clam up when people ask me why was I crying. I'm glad that I'm clean for a few weeks now but it still haunts me now and then to just believe that a moment of time, I thought to myself that it was better off that I wasn't alive. 

I'm still not sure whether I felt that a person who did commit suicide whether I would believe they are brave or that they are weak. Granted no one's sadness can ever be measured up to each other, I always wonder whether all the sadness in this world could ever make sense. Sometimes it's okay to not be okay but a person's selfish action to take upon his life will never sit well with me. I'm not blaming people but losing someone to death at a age where I found it difficult to understand how can people just be gone. Gone from life, gone from existence. It always make it hard to swallow the words : what about me. What about me who is still trying to fight her demons each day to wake up and face the world? What about me who desperately wanted you in her life? and the list of endless self-berating goes on and on. It takes a lot out of me to hear someone tell me that it's not my fault before it finally make sense to me that it isn't. Nor is it the person's fault for attempting suicide or have committed it. 

no one is getting out of life alive. 

And that speech strike me most. Live life the way you want it, be as sad as you want to be, be as happy as you could be. But before you think you have enough, think through and if you still feel this is it, then go ahead with it. As much as I hate it, I would respect the person's wishes. But what I can't stand are flimsy flighty emotions that pushed one to think one is better off dead. No, it isn't. As flawed as one is, we still have to fight, we still have to press on. Life, is so fucking precious. Because there is no turning back.  There is no saying I regret when you make that jump, when you make that slit. It's a uphill battle for some to survive, but I just want to say, you got this. you're not here alone. 

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