Dharcy Exposed

Being in love
Means you are completely broken
Then put back together
The one piece that was yours
Is beating in your lover’s chest
She says the same thing about hers

[...]

I am proof that the heart
Is a risky fuel to burn

(Being in love – Songs: Ohia)

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about this phenomenon called life quality. Life quality. I guess it’s something that should taste sweet, and not bitter as it does to me. Pretty quickly I come to conclusion that I lack this. The more I read up on what’s happening to me and my body, and the more I stay awake through nights thinking about it I realise life quality is something that doesn’t come easy for most people. It’s something that can probably be defined in billions of different ways; probably as many as there are people in this world and everyone wants different things to achieve quality in their lives. Me, I’m not sure what I need nor want to get there. The only thing I really know is what sort of things around me are turning it into something rather opposite. (more…)

Love is a strange thing. It fills you up completely, but at the same time nothing can make you feel more empty. I actually stole that quote from myself, stated in another entry on this blog page. It rings more and more true for each day, for each day that passes by without you here and even though I’m insanely happy about our shared feelings, it brings me down as well. Seems I can never be happy enough right? Seems I can never be satisfied, there’s always a dark cloud or two in my blue sky. I still can’t say I’ve forgotten about the whole idea of letting go, whenever I’m not talking to you or replying your txts, it still feels like the most clever thing to do. The truth is that it seems faith has something else planned out for us, no matter how we puzzle with this between us, it won’t end up the way we want. At least not for another few years. We’re bound to be apart; it seems like destiny. (more…)

When you try your best but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

(Fix you – Coldplay)

Be quicker, be stronger; carry the team on your shoulders. Score more goals, cause more havoc, get them out of balance; come on, you can do it. You’re the captain of the team for Christ sake, do it. I can’t, I’m not good enough, I’m not perfect; in fact, I never was good enough. No matter how many times I score in this game, no matter how many times I’ve scored during the whole season. No matter how many awards I’ve won, no matter what they say. I’ll never be good enough. Dad says I can always get better, there’s always some little detail I can practice and correct until I reach perfection. There’s always something. Heads down now, time for face off. There’s still some things left to prove, like always. (more…)

Like always when I’ve made up a plan about what to do with things, he comes around to strike me down and make me take back everything. I txted him late last night saying I wanted to talk something through, and I was going to tell him I was done with this, because I simply can’t cope with it with the rest of my life being as messed up as it is. Taking the easy, or not so easy way out, to gain some air to breathe for a while before I dive with my head first into what I hope will sort myself out. Rehabilitation, therapy and everything coming along with that. I was going to cut myself loose to be able to focus on something else but longing myself crazy for someone as far away as he is. He’s not just any opponent though, he’s the only one who’s able to pick me up, put the pieces together and fix me. Temporarily or for good, who knows. (more…)

I’m thinking about giving it up. It’s adding too much tension to my life, too many things I can’t cope with; like being apart, like longing for someone not here, like fighting silent wars for no use. It’s getting more obvious for each day, the fact that I can’t handle it, and that I’m clinging onto something even more fragile than myself. It’s an impossible equation, it’s something already bound to break before it even started and it’s complicating my life in a way I’m not sure I can handle anymore. (more…)

Fuck it, I ate too much again and the anxiety is throwing itself over me like a starved tiger, clawing my back until it’s bleeding red in the darkness in my bathroom. It’s got to go but I’m afraid of doing it, of giving in, because it’s something I never had the guts to do before. It’s like if I give up and surrender to this feeling I’ll never be able to stop it again. I close my eyes and I stick my whole hand down my throat but nothing is happening besides my guts are twisting from cramps. I keep trying but it’s useless. It’s got to go, now, and my head is spinning with ideas and ways to let it go. After thinking for a bit I head out to the kitchen and I find a bottle of vodka in the fridge. I guess this will have to do. (more…)

It’s hard to admit to myself that if I want to get well you’re a big part of my healing procedure. I don’t mean it as harsh as it sounds, but for example; above all the things I try to kill or deafen by eating/not eating/throwing up/self punishment are my feelings for you and the fact that you’re obviously missing for the time being. Next to that, comes self resent and self disgust, but first, every single time, comes the fact that you can’t be here to hug me, hold me and tell me everything is going to be alright. (more…)

I’d be stupid to say I wasn’t shaken by the fact you actually wrote me back. By now I’m used to people not getting back to me, and I’m not sure how it makes me feel. Easy for them, hard for me but I still have difficulties realising I’m in someone’s picture at all these days. Each time someone actually turns out to care, I’m stuck in silence of not knowing what to say. Last time that happened was on Valentine’s Day. Me and my friends were going to hang out that night just not giving a crap about all the happy couples and stuff ourselves full of fast food and similar. Cursing at this unfair world feeling sorry for ourselves. Valentine’s Day seems made for that, and I guess that’s one of few days I can really afford myself that. For the rest of the year I try telling myself I’m lucky; with various results. (more…)