I Don't Know If I'll Ever Understand

     I can't believe I haven't posted on this since the end of November. It's crazy to think about how much has changed over the past couple of months, and to think about how much I could've said in that time. There were so many times I wanted to post, but I just couldn't find enough motivation to do so. I love this blog, and I'm so happy I created it. It has helped me tremendously, despite the fact that I can't see anything but the negative in my life at this very moment.
     Last night and tonight have probably been the toughest 24 hours I've had in a long time. Sure, I've struggled daily with different things, but nothing can quite compare to the way I've been feeling lately. Last night, I was helpless. I was scared. I was questioning everything, from my intentions to my purpose overall. I can't truly put last night into words, other than I was terrified. I never wanted to feel that way again.
     I do not wish what I am going through on my worse enemy. I do not hope that anyone out there has to go through the mental pain and suffering I've put myself through all these years. At this very moment, I can't blame a single person. I can't look down on my dad for continually confusing me, the friends who have come and gone, my past relationships, or anybody. I can't blame a single person, but myself. I am my own worse enemy. I am my own worse critic. I am the core to my suffering and the reason why so many things are the way they are.
     Lately, I haven't wanted to tell anyone about my problems. My best friend doesn't really understand what's going on with me. My mom tried to ask me why I was balling last night, but I didn't have an answer for her. My counselors have looked at me and asked me to talk to them, but I've been very brief. I believe that I feel guilty. I feel guilty for costing my family so much money, paying for my counseling, medications, constant doctors visits for numerous reasons, money spent on diets I could never push myself to endure, and all the countless, valuable hours I've wasted of theirs. I see myself as burden. In many ways, I do believe I have helped others. I've helped my friend BB work on her depression. I've helped several other students at my school with their issues. I've even helped some complete strangers. Does that all really matter though? At the end of the day, is it all worth it? Are your accomplishments enough to measure your purpose here? No. I do not believe I have earned happiness in my life, and that is precisely why I am down on myself all the time.
     On Sunday, I layed in my bed thinking terrible thoughts. I do not wish to repeat them, as I know where it will go from there. I can tell you this though; my mind goes crazy sometimes. Sometimes, I think up the wildest things that scare the living daylight out of me. It worries me that my thoughts could turn into actions. Last night, I layed n the bathroom floor and sobbed until it hurt. I slept maybe a few hours last night. I know I'm especially in a lot of pain, when sleeping doesn't even numb the ache.
     Tonight, I watched the news frantically as I heard updates about the Boston Marathon bombing earlier this evening. I'm not going to lie; I cried as I watched the pictures being displayed across the television screen of the faces of the victims and the dismembered bodies of the wounded. It's a scary world out there, and each day my eyes are opened a little wider to it.
     Just a little bit ago, I confided in a guy about what has been going on with me. He seems like the perfect guy for me. We have everything in common, from the things we like to do to the way we hope to spend the rest of our lives. I figured I could trust him, as he has gave me no reason not to. I told him what was on my mind last night. At first, he apologized for not talking to me last night because "I needed him". Soon, he became worried that something like that could happen again. He told me what I was thinking and feeling was not a good thing, as if I didn't already know. He said he didn't know what he would do if something happened to me. Then, he said having someone like me in his life was not exactly something he wanted. He said he didn't think it would be "good for him for this to happen again, especially if we became closer". He said we can't ever be more than just friends. He said what we have is not healthy. Basically, he has given up on me. He wanted me to trust him and to confide in him, and then the second I do he rips the ground right out from under me and decides he wants to give up. Like every person in my life, from my first love to my father to my best friend of about eight years, they all have given up. Events like this smack me into reality that I have huge problems that other people don't want to deal with. It hurts to know that I have been putting others before myself for so long, and that as soon as I reach my hand out for a little help, I get rejected. Why would someone ask you to tell them what's going on, if they were just going to turn you away in the end? Is it out of fear, selfishness, or do they just not want to understand?
     I don't know where I stand from here. I just had to make a point to write down exactly how I am feeling. In the end, I want someone to not give up on me. I want someone, anyone, to look me in the eye, tell me I'm worth it, and promise never to let me go. I want to be a priority, not someone to avoid. I know we all have problems, some of us more than others, but what makes it okay to turn away others? I don't understand. I don't know if I'll ever understand.