Do you ever feel like you’re done living somewhere you’ve been living your whole life? Well, at this moment, I have that feeling. The feeling that there’s nothing here in Belgium that can make you happy, the feeling that everyone you meet here is poison, the feeling that everything you used to do for fun does not make you happy anymore like it used to be and the feeling that you’re stuck here.
I’m writing this post in my car at the moment. Normally, I had a poledance class today. But I really didn’t feel like going. I used to jump up the air when I knew that today was poledance day. But now it seems like a chore to travel all the way to Ghent… Recent experiences made me want to avoid Ghent as much as possible too, because everytime I’m there, I feel the pain all over again… But I can’t avoid it, because I study in Ghent. Anyway, I was in Ghent… But a little bit too early for class. A lot of overthinking has made me jump on the train back to my hometown again. And I didn’t want to go home yet, so I’ve been cruising with my car all my way to Waregem (another Belgian “city”), and now I’m writing this on some parking lot.
I feel like I want to disappear for a while. Run to another country for a few years or maybe even forever and to start all over. I don’t have anything here that can make me stay. I feel like the more I stay here, the more I’ll be depressed and fall deeper and deeper. But then again, I can’t leave now (although I really want to leave NOW), because I still have two subjects to finish for my studies so that I can graduate college. So I’m stuck… And after I’ll graduate, I’ll be stuck too. Because I still need enough money for when things happen abroad… So I won’t be leaving soon… Sadly… I really want to finish my college, but I don’t have the energy or the concentration anymore. I don’t even have the energy to meet new people and make new friends, because I know they’ll let me down someday. And I’ve also lost my trust in people. I’ve realised that, when you’re going through something, you’re on your own. There’s no one you can rely to. Ofcourse, a few of them would give you some advice, but that’s only a one-time thing. After that, they don’t care. They don’t even bother to ask how you’ve been doing. Sometimes I feel like I might as well kill myself. But then I think about how my mother would react and how devastated she would be and that’s the only true thing that makes me hold on and keep living. A few days ago, I’ve tried to search through my mother’s closets to see if she had any Prozac left, but luckily (or sadly) I didn’t find anything.
Last Tuesday, I had an appointment to talk to someone who would help me get professional help… But I refused the offer… I don’t think a stranger that doesn’t even know you can fix things. I can’t even explain what my problem really is… But the last six months, are really not one of my happiest months. I feel like I’ve never been happy… When I was little, I used to stare out of my bedroom window and just cry… Without even knowing why. And I had those weird moments frequently. But ofcourse, sometimes my childhood wasn’t all fun and that. Especially when your parents fight all the time and your mother used to use you as an emotional punching bag afterwards. Before you think otherwise, she didn’t abuse me by hitting me! She would never do that. But she likes to put all of her baggage on me afterwards though and be mad at me etc… And I wouldn’t understand back then why she was so mad at me when I’ve done nothing wrong.And whenever I was in another room trying to distract myself and play with my sister, she would come upstairs to the room and make us feel guilty because we we’re having “fun” while she was fighting with my dad… Seeing what my parents are going through each day, makes me think about falling in love. Do I really want that much suffering? Love can be great at the beginning, but the happiness and the romance does not last that long and people change. That’s where the relationship trouble starts… So I’ve told myself to never catch feelings for someone and keep it casual. And so I did… Until August 2016. But that’s for another time.
Sometimes I wish that my mother would have done an abortion when she was pregnant with me. Because… Why am I here? What is the purpose of living?