Life is Only Slowly Freezing to Death

I'm starting to think that my life has been nothing more than a failed experiment.

I'm so unhappy with everything, and I don't know when it'll get better – if it even will.

I made the analogy a few days ago that I felt like I was freezing to death. From what I've read, it goes something like this – It's so cold, and so painful, and it's hard to keep going. You struggle, and you fight, and you know you need to keep moving. But eventually, your body starts to give up, to accept defeat. You start to get warm, complacent. You know that if you just lie down and curl up, it'll stop hurting. But in your heart, your mind, you know you need to get up, keep going, keep moving. And it's the hardest thing you'd ever do – to get out of that daze, to struggle, and keep going.

I feel like I'm freezing to death, and I don't know how to make that feeling stop. I don't know if I want to even keep trying because god, it hurts so badly.

Last night, I put myself on the line. At someone's request, I admitted to one of those deep, dark secrets that lurk in the shadows and never see the light of day. They aren't discussed. They're shoved away to the back of your mind where they live, and when they threaten to flare up, you push them back again. Well, I risked myself. I trusted. And he told me he didn't think he could be that for me. I told him I didn't expect him to. And he told me that if I didn't, I wouldn't have told him. I lost it. He asked. In my mind, if you ask something, be prepared for an answer – otherwise, why ask? ("Questions are dangerous, for they have answers." – Jacqueline Carey.) He told me later that he's used to people just not answering. I asked him countless times if he really wanted to know. He said yes. I hesitated. I held back, and he persisted. So I told. And to have him come back like that … It felt as though my heart was being crushed within my chest. I physically hurt so badly I could barely breathe.

He called. We talked about it. It seemed like it was going to be almost okay, even though I wasn't sure if I'd be able to keep from holding it against him or not. But I was going to try, because he knew he'd said something wrong. And he knew why. So it was dumb of me to hold it against him. I accepted that. I was going to do everything I could to keep from doing it. And I think I would've succeeded.

But then this evening … I realized exactly how much I expect of people. I was fine when he said he might be going out. I was fine when he was busy doing something important. I was fine until he told me that he wasn't leaving, that as soon as he was finished what he was doing, I'd have his full attention and we could talk and role play and all – only to out of nowhere tell me that he was going out after all, without even seeming to acknowledge that it was going to bother me. And maybe that's my fault. I can't help that it upsets me. I hate when people say they'll do something … especially when it's someone I care for so fiercely, that I enjoy talking to so much, whose company I enjoy so thoroughly, and I let myself hope.

Hope. "The things we love destroy us every time." And that's because of hope.

So I lost my control. I showed him what he'd said – he told me he'd stay, since he'd said he would. I told him no, not to bother, that I didn't want him here. He left. I called and told him I hadn't meant it – I hadn't. The last thing I wanted was for him to go, but I was hurting and I lashed out. But somehow the conversation shifted, until I felt like he really was just getting fed up with my reactions – that I got so upset the night before, then tonight. So I told him what was running through my head. That I thought it might be best if we just ended things. This is the person I've let the closest in as long as I can remember, and I was just so afraid I'd continue to fail him, disappoint him, hurt him. He said okay. He said that if that's what I wanted, he'd let me go. In my mind, I was screaming, Of course I don't want it! I want to stop hurting you! I want to stop feeling hurt! But he went on, repeated it. And I thanked him for making it easier for me, and hung up.

Then proceeded to burst into tears.

I'm trying to figure out why I'm like this, why I hold people so fiercely to what they say. I think part of it is that I want them to disappoint me. I want them to fuck up. I want it to be easier to shove them away and go back to my safe place alone. It gives me an excuse to hurt, to push them away, to hate them. And especially after last night … any reason was good enough. Today was probably the test, the end-all, be-all of days, and it crashed. The rest of it, though … is that I want so badly, more than anything, to be proven wrong. I want someone to prove me wrong and show me that I'm not terrible, that they have hope in me, that they care, that they won't just let me go because I'm having a bad night. That it's okay to hold people to their word and expect them to do what they'll say and not do what they say they won't do.

But I don't think it's going to happen.

I just want to stop hurting. Maybe this is it for me. Maybe I'm just failing over and over and over. Maybe my life is a failure. I have no social skills, I hate the way everything's going. I hate myself. I don't see anything good happening in the future. I just see myself living this way forever, miserable and wanting to be saved from myself, wanting the motivation to save myself.

And I don't think I'll get it.