Dharcy Exposed

It arrived today, the letter I’ve been waiting for. Didn’t state much though, only that I’ve been put in queue for an initial examination to see how deep down in shit I am. It’s weird, I haven’t been seeing my therapist in weeks now just waiting for this letter and I’m starting to feel a bit unstable again. Been better with the bad habits, but it’s on my mind all the time. So I started a diet, and at least that’s better than doing the other things I usually do. Yesterday I managed on 200 calories. Well, until someone decided to pour 2 bottles of wine down my throat. (more…)

This is an invitation, it’s not a threat
If you want communication, that’s what you’ll get
I’m talking and talking
But I don’t know how to connect
And I hold a record for being patient
With your kind of hesitation
I need you, you want me
But I don’t know how to connect
So I disconnect
I disconnect

(Communication – the Cardigans)

So they know my name, them people you’re living with, partying with, working with. Thousands of miles away and you let them know my name. Not only my nickname, my real name. It left me speechless to hear them shout my name in the background while we were talking, asking if it was me and if you wanted to be alone. I heard the door shut in your room and I’m guessing they knew what you were dealing with. Me. And I even have a name. (more…)

(more…)

I am the rain that’s coming down on you
That you shielded yourself from with a roof
I am the fire burning desperately
But you’re controlling me
Release me

(Release me – Oh Laura)

I’m a lucky girl. Despite all the things I complain about on this stupid blog page, I’m very lucky. I wake up every day and I surround myself with sweet, loving friends and I’ve got a job that I love. I complain about work too, sometimes, but I could never deny the fact that I really like spending time there. Maybe a bit too much for my own good, at times. I’m also studying to become a teacher; my dream profession, or simply what I was born to be. Teacher. It took me quite a few years to realise but I never wanted to turn back after I finally made up my mind. I’m lucky in many things; my life is actually great. I even started over in new cities twice; and for one and a half year now I’ve been living here in this town where I finally feel at home. Lucky. That’s me. (more…)

Two more days til Valentine’s Day. The loneliest day of the year and the only one who sends me flowers would be my mum. This year I doubt it though. Our last conversation didn’t end that well, since I couldn’t stand hearing her moaning about her shitty life. The woman has it all; she divorced my dad but was able to get through it all and start over with someone new. And here I am, stuck with my little problems that she just refuses to try to relate to. I’m too complicated for her, she says, and she also says she can’t stand the thought of my sickness. So she denies it. She avoids it and throw the blame on me; the fact she can’t relate to it, or the truth as I see it; it’s easier for her to just feel sorry for herself for having such a fucked up kid as myself. Good for you mum; you’re doing your best to push me away, just like you did for the past 26 years. Why I’m still in your life is a mystery to me as well. (more…)

I don’t know why I’m writing this letter; yes, I’ve said it before and like always I don’t know. Maybe it’s just a way to get some kind of closure; you’re not the first one denying me that and this time I’m not letting 2.5 years pass by before I dare doing what I want. Some weeks ago I finally ended what’s been haunting my mind for years too; I closed the book of the sad fairytale about me and K, I said my goodbyes in a letter and I sent it. Maybe not goodbyes, those were already said once, but I told him my side of the story and I told him everything. The eating, the not eating, the miscarriage and the never ending feelings of hate. I know nothing about his reaction; he’s just another coward leaving my life and I couldn’t care less. My only comfort is that he knows, and maybe that is what’s making me write this too. (more…)

Red wine and sleeping pills
Help me get back to your arms
Cheap sex and sad films
Help me get back where I belong

I will see you in the next life

(Motion picture soundtrack – Radiohead)

I’m fleeing again, leaving this place behind. The memories are echoing off the walls reminding me of things that won’t leave my mind no matter how hard I try, so the best way is always to flee. I’ve lived here for one and a half year now, and I remember arriving here with the fresh feeling of being free, of starting over on my own conditions. It was my choice and I managed on my own; with a bit of a struggle, but on my own. I made it this far, but now it’s time for a change again. The air inside my apartment is threatening to choke me; I need to get out. (more…)