Living for the weekend

8 Jan


Selfdestruction is my best friend… and I’m living for the weekend,

except that I don’t even have a weekend to live for.

Okay, I realise that this sounds beyond sad. And I’m not that sad. Or am I?

Anyway, the selfdestruction-part sounds alarmingly true. I don’t sleep enough, I don’t eat enough (which, for me, is absolutely wrong). At least I drink enough, right? But hydration vs coffee and alcohol? I wonder how usefull that is…

I don’t know what’s going on. I even scare myself. I keep myself destracted not to have to think about it. And now that I’m writing this, I know that it’s a way of reaching out for help. The thing is that I should tell my friends or maybe even my family. Why don’t I? And this post is the most pathetic piece of text I ever wrote. I’m ashamed that it had to come this far. But at the same time I just hope that this is the low point I had to fall to before I could crawl up and take my life back.

The goal this week? I think that’s clear. Use the strength that is now hidden somewhere deep inside me to reclaim my life. Step by step, maybe, I shouldn’t want to much at a time.  But I’ll be back, that’s a promise I make myself…


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