But it would be foolish to get wrapped up in generic lyricism.
Somehow, I do wish that I could write sometime eloquent here. Something of significance. But seeing as I have never managed to do anything of significance it's rather apt that this is absolutely not reflective of the potential I sometimes thought I had.
I'm not fighting it anymore.
I don't want another year to pass and for it to be in vain, they say it's all downhill by twenty three anyway.
You see I understand how this will come off, it's all been done before, it's selfish and it's cliched. But I'm not trying to portray anything. I've given up. What would be the point, why leave a note that tries it hardest to mean something. See this is the difference, I now realise that none of what I did meant anything, I never amounted to much and I'm a pitiful waste of any potential that was ever there. I am not seeking validation; I truly believe this. I cannot articulate what it is to go beyond any depressive stereotype and to realise, actually see and understand that those thoughts are the absolute.
They are the absolute.
And I'm not fighting anymore.
I want to scream at how everything I held dear was taken away from me. But it wasn't. I did it to myself. I lack self control. I did it all to myself. I ruined myself. I, I, I.
They were my values, and let myself fall prey to everyone who tried to tell me I was wrong, the patronising compliments, no I don't fucking look great, I look fucking vile. Maybe they're happy to see me fade into everyone else, but they were my values, I may sound ignorant or insane but I truly know what beauty is, not merely the physical, I mean my mind. My poor mind. Such a waste of a perfectly adequate mind. I cannot explain what I mean by my values. I cannot explain much. My mind is too tired. Again, what's the point in trying to explain, that would be some sort of effort to leave a mark, and do not deserve to leave a mark.
I clearly don't deserve much. I grasped what I wouldn't, and then I threw it all away. How dare people assume that I don't know what I want. And cheer on my disgusting disintegration of strength. I failed. There's no saving grace, when I say I failed, I really mean it. Hand on heart, I weigh so much more than I ever want to find out. Honestly, this is not an eating disorder anymore. Because my body is decidedly average. I am not skewing or exaggerating. I have gone too far, too quick. I am a mass. I take up this hideous space. I am bigger than I can remember being before.
I am done.
I am not worth this fight. I am a pathetic excuse. Why be half when I can just be nothing. I am saying 'I am' a lot, I'm acutely aware of sounding like a teenage brat. But how else does one write these things. I don't know how it's supposed to go. Why am I ashamed to write so indulgently about myself when that's what this sort of thing is after all.
I should be writing my college assignments. Just another example of how I am not gripping my life back. Not one ounce. I've let it all fall to shit. I know I'm capable, somehow, but it just won't come through. I don't know how to express the utter disappointment in myself when I think of all the things I could be doing these past months, and how I ruined everything. My academics are shot, and I wanted so bad to be an absolute paradigm of academic achievement. I wanted it to branch into my life, I anted to keep writing, I wanted to get back to doing some art, I wanted to take photos, I wanted to review, I wanted to socialise, I wanted to everything. Everything I knew I had the power in to me to do.
And now it is utterly shameful to see how I wasted it all. It's too late. I always thought I'd want to leave something of significance. I was a dreamer. There is absolutely no significance. But that is not what kills me, it's the very fact that I believed there could be and I've wasted it. I'd rather leave than continue on with this sham, I'd rather exit than have everyone around me watch my pathetic failure. Failure is far too grandiose a word. I don't deserve it. This is more a mundane recounting of the facts.
So see I am not so self absorbed or petty for this to be about the fact that I weigh so much, it is about what I had and what I, myself, lost. It is about how I did it all. It is about how now I have nothing, not even my bones, and without them it appears that there really was nothing left to me.
A fucking sham, all a sham.
But I am a horrible person, do the movies not show us that there's an etiquette? Yes I should subscribe to proper order. What the fuck is this proper order, am I fucking thinking straight enough to plan what to say to each and every one? God I don't deserve the chance. I toyed with this everyday for so long, but I couldn't realise it, there was always one person who stopped me from seriously following through. I didn't think that would change. But I guess it has. So I must be truly selfish. I am not planning this, I am cruel and selfish because I don't want to consider the disturbance this will cause to the people I live with. I just don't want to think, please god I want to fucking stop thinking. But I didn't plan to feel like this today, oh god I really didn't. I kept fooling myself that tomorrow would be better. But it's a never ending cycle. God , this hurts, hurts to know how it will kill the one person I love the most. I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry. There should be stronger ways to say how sorry I am. I wish you could know. I never wanted to hurt you. If I even try to plan this out and write to you personally I won't go through with this. But my mind is so far gone I can't feature an alternative. You deserved so much more in a daughter. I'm only doing what I think is for the best. I am coward. I can't type anymore, I can't find the words, they're all too shallow for what I want to say. And yet I've said more than I ever set out to.