I have reached, I have pulled myself to a new low
Holy fucking shits, I am so happy right now. Happiest I have ever been since forever, swimming in love, loving new hopes, hope and hope for everything. Everyday I woke up like a fucking ray of sunshine, and yet it still happened.
A familiar motherfucking relapse.
Last year, 2015, I thought it was the craziest year of all: moving out of Singapore, back in Hanoi, becoming an actual full time blogger, bought my own home, starting to write books, meeting Lena in Russia... and then just as 2016 starts, I got married.
I love him, I love him so much I have become a softy, a cheesy cheesy softy. I want to stay at home and look at him while he sleeps and play with his hair although he has none and cook for him and being carried around in his arms.
I thought I was cured from all sickness, I thought love is the answer to everything. May be it is, may be it isn't. Everything is uncertain because I am not asking the right question.
Married for a month, today is my first day leaving his side. Seriously, since the day we met, we have not been far from each other at all, not even for a few hours without us feeling like we are dying. And yet, I am leaving for a month, to Europe, to perform in my first contemporary dance tour ever.
Just reached to the hotel, I heard the receptionist said to "put your bag down and go stuff your self with our breakfast buffet, I know you are starving"
And that is exactly what I did.
Simple as that, simple as if nothing have happened, I binged, again, and again, and again. Binged till tired, binged till i fainted. No reasons, no triggers, no nothing whatsoever, I am just back to being me. What hurts me the most was realizing he has nothing to do with this, he wasn't even on my mind, it was just my disorder taking the wheels again, and it is crashing me down hill at full speed.
Nothing fills me in, nothing heals me, even unbearable happiness.
Disorder always find a reason that sounds so logical at that point of time. You are happy, treat yourself. You are sad, do it to take away the sadness. You are angry, put the blame on it. You are disappointed, might as well be disappointed in yourself too.
I can feel like today is going to be the first of many days again, and again I don't want to live to see those days.
How can you tell someone who you treasure that you have an addition with puking?
It is so fucking painful. I used to not give a shit, and it was easier. Now I care, I care for my health, I care if he cares, I care about everything because I care about him and he is my everything. And yet, I walked in the cold, in the 5 degree weather, in the strange street of Europe where I have never been to find food to fucking puke.
Is this funny to you? this is fucking hilarious to me, I can't stop laughing
I am delusional, I am psycho. I complained to everyone I can't afford shits, I beg people to give me opportunity to work, I worry about every dimes and yet I just spent the salary of my first performance ever in vegan kebabs and fries,
Holy Germany, vegan burgers and fries and pizzas everywhere laughing at me.
Once again, I feel like I can't talk. Once again, I need the Internet to share. Locking myself in the room, not giving a shit about the entire deaf and mute dancers group I am suppose to take care of, crying my heart out, not saying a word to anyone I love, telling them I miss them, I am a little piece of shits.
Wearing my hoodies, walking out again, it is time for session 2, session 3, session 4.
My throat burns from scratches. My back aches. My eyes tearing up and my insides tearing apart. I don't know why I have to do this, I don't know why I do anything anymore. Give me a reason, that is my question, if I can't stop my bullshit doing then at least let me know why I am suffering at all. I am tired, I am alone, and it is more painful now that I know I can be happy yet I am not.