I’m starting to see things more clearly. I realise how much I’m trying to hurting myself. This realisation is horrible. I’m sure everyone is doing it though. Like not sleeping when I need to sleep, not eating or eating to much for no reason, ignoring the pain in my body. I don’t know why I’m doing that. Maybe I am insecure about myself. About how I look and about my personality. But on the other hand I should be happy. Also I waste too much time. Waiting, not thinking, thinking too much, doing things I don’t want to be doing, just wasting time. In a bad way though. I enjoy wasting time when it’s enjoyable. But not when it’s pointless and it pisses me off. I am so fucking stupid sometimes. I wish I was more simple. In a way. Just rely on my body and heart to tell me what to do. Not on my brain. It is always misleading. Especially when I do something unconsciously.
Tomorrow’s a Sunday. I want to sleep in. I haven’t done that in a month. Maybe once when Geoff was around. But it does’t count since we spent the whole night wandering around Brighton. I am drained at the moment. I want to lie in bed, look at the stars on my ceiling, slowly close my eyes and dream the night away. And then wake up naturally. Or if G calls. I don’t mind if he calls in the morning. Early. Wakes me up. Even if I’m very tired I still want to talk to him. Just to hear what he has to say. Even if I don’t remember the conversation afterwards.
I want to start sleep normally, eat healthy, just in general do stuff I want to do. Why do I enjoy hurting myself so much? I know the answer. I want to much myself to the limit. So that I can see what I am capable of. So that I can see that I am able to do things even if I don’t have the energy or the time. I hate though. So much. It annoys me. I need to stop.
I am tired of negative thoughts too. I want to just live. Not think. Just be. Just love. Just dream.
