A Post About An Old Post

entry from a newly found old notebook, written on an unknown date

"I sit in my bed, yet another night with my back toward my roommate and my face staring at a blank wall where all of his pictures used to sit. I took them all down when I got back from the airport and now I like the blankness better quite frankly.

Sitting here looking at this blank white wall, I can relate to it. It's empty, lonely almost. You see, me and this wall have a lot in common. I can vaguely hear my roommate talking to me, but it's muffled and I don't care to focus in- so I don't. Day by day, I sit staring at this wall. My roommate eventually stopped trying to reach me, my friends stopped texting me, and my teachers stopped emailing me. In fact I stopped going to class completely, for I was just too busy.

Staring at the wall.

I stopped eating, nearly completely. I was wasting away- literally. I lost twenty pounds and I looked skinnier than ever, considering my new diet consisted of alcohol and the occasional grilled cheese.

I'd go out and drink myself to oblivion, and quite honestly, I think a part of me hoped that I would be able to just drink myself to death. A painless death in which my last thoughts wouldn't be the ones that drove me mad. I'd part quietly from the world, unnoticed and the slate would be wiped clean. Just like my blank white wall by my bed side.

In fact, a part of me was envious of that wall. It could hold whatever it wanted upon it's surface and it could be taken down at any time. If a picture was there, but it no longer belonged, it could just simply be removed. All of me pleaded and wished that the pain and memories could just be erased like such.

I stopped listening to music, because all my favorite songs brought back the sharpest memories. I stopped eating because I had no appetite. I stopped talking to people because I'd find myself drowning out the noise and lose track of the conversation. I isolated myself from everyone and everything. I no longer cared. I no longer tried. I just existed.

I would literally sit in my dorm all day and go for long late night runs, when the motivation would strike me and no one would be wake to see me. I tried to run away from the pain but no matter how fast I ran, the pain just ran faster. No amount of alcohol could stop it either. Nothing could stop my mind except that damn white wall. I know I've stressed it a lot, and have been a bit redundant, but the truth of the matter is exactly that. My days had become redundant, not that they aren't anyway, but each day was literally the same. I looked terrible. Everyone around me could tell I was deteriorating except me.

Freshman class president, with all the friends on campus, the most outgoing, happy and bubbly person all my peers had known to be, had vanished. People stopped saying hi because they got tired of not hearing a response. I got so sick of the pitiful looks, therefore the reason I stopped leaving my dorm completely.

Out of all the things in my life that I'd been through, it'd surprise anyone to hear that this was what broke me. After all the trauma, the pain, and darkness that I had risen from, it was a boy- heartbreak- that made feel so very unfixable."

It's crazy how we stumble across things that we had forgotten about. I forgot I had written this, but this is an entry from one of my journals. It's hard to fathom that I once felt like this, lost myself like this. It's made me realize that I'm actually still looking for myself.