Bottled Up in Writing To Escape [Open Diary Entries]

Hey all,

It has been a while since I wrote anything I know, there have been numerous times I've come here to O.D to write and typed out empty, meaningless words on the page, or just looked at it and wondered what I can fill it with that will make any form of sense or mean any form of substance.

I hate being so lost for words that I can't even express myself as I would do, in my case recently this means not at all. I would rather just bottle it all up and hold it in as I have done since July 27th 2013. I rock back and forth holding that bottle, nobody really knowing what's inside of it, nobody knowing what it really contains.

Have you ever been so lost within yourself that you wish instead of taking the pills to make you happy or balanced, you could fill up your own prescription bottle and hand it back to the Doctor as a reject, 'sorry this dose of life isn't doing it for me, let's try another please.'

Sometimes life just isn't fair, it is too cruel and no words can comfort you when you feel as though something has come in and smashed you and your world into a million pieces, where do you start to rebuild? Where do you form a base? Where do you ask for help when you're so used to doing everything alone? People offer their hands but every time I reach out to grab them, my grip falls to pieces. I'm not whole. I'm not stable. I'm not complete. I'm not me.

At night all my thoughts are filled with are of how gentle and frail my mother had become in the last year, how weak she was at the end and how much pain she was constantly in. Naively we thought this is temporary, this is just for now, things will get better, things have to get better and they didn't, they just got worse.

Now I can't get those thoughts out of my head. No matter what I do, no matter how much I try I just can't get those thoughts out of my head. I look at myself each day and put on my fake smiles, my fake way of life and I hate every second of it. It hurts to much to pretend it doesn't and those walls are crumbling a little more each day under the stress.

Today I sat in my car at dinner, the rain pouring down and my eyes just began to run, for 20 minutes I sat and let them run. I'm not used to not being able to chat to her even about the small little things in life, the trivial and benign things that make us all connect, the little things you do with your parents, the moments that only you share and they are yours alone. I miss my mum.

I didn't get to have a final chat with her, ask her things that I wanted to, I didn't get to say goodbye to her.

There is so much bottled up inside that I'm afraid if I pop that cap and start sifting through all the pieces I'll come undone and I'll lose everything I'm holding onto, the good, the bad, everything and I know I'm not ready to let go. I'm fighting everything inside of myself just to stay numb, to suppress everything but it wells up and I fight to push it down but all I have now are memories, texts, photo's and it kills me that a main character in my story is gone, never to return.

I miss my mum.

Last updated June 11, 2014