Can one feel guilt on top of guilt? Can you be condemned for your actions when all you wanted to do was erase your existence, knowing that your existence causes pain for you and those around you? However even knowing that your own existence causes you pain, and that ending it would bring you peace it brings others pain. What is right and what is wrong? They don’t want you to die, yet are tortured by who you are. Feeling pushed and pulled, there is no right answer, whom are you doing this for, for all the people that want you to try? For the guilt you feel if you don’t try? For the children you don’t want to scar? Why do they want you to try when truly, having you around haunts them, the effort drains them, the responsibility of your existence a burden. Angry with you for your weaknesses, but not proud of you when you make a decision. I made the decision to die, not for anyone but myself. I wanted it, I felt it, but the back lash, the responsibility for these actions, you are now forced to live and deal with them, all that you wanted to get away from, now placed before you, guilted before you, because in the never ending circle you cannot win, cannot win for yourself and for those who love you.
Do they think I’m happy, I wonder to myself. Has anyone asked me whether I am glad I am alive that I didn’t die? Have I asked myself, am I happy I was “saved”? Am I happy in my hamster cage, with my trainers, my pills, my exercise and my guilt? I know the answer, and the answer fails all your tests but mine. Ask me how I feel! I didn’t want to die to hurt you, I wanted to die to take my hurt away, not to ask for help, not to show my needs, not for anything outside of me, I didn’t do it for you, I died for me. And I lived for you. And I am in my cage trying to pass the tests, cheating at the answers because I cant tell you I’m happy I’m alive, you want me to be, but I’m not. I wake up every morning looking for enough to make it through the day, till the sun has gone down so I can sleep. Sleep is my death, my peace, and morning is my punishment, my life.
Even in the act of death, my need to please sabotaged my need to leave. I should have gone quietly but the guilt of not telling you hung on me. Would you feel guilty knowing that you let me die, feel like it was your fault? But if I tell you, and you know and tried to save me, but I still died, does it make it better for you? You feel like you tried, you didn’t fail in trying to save me. How can I feel responsible even in process of ceasing to be? Responsible to how you feel even when I am no longer with you. When does this end? They ask me why I want to escape, run away, be invisible? Because I become an unknown, not beholden to anyone, no one cares, I am nothing to anyone, my life becomes insignificant, and easy to give away. What a fairytale, the modern princess, there is no prince, no frog, no cake, no castle atop a hill, just a gilded cage, some happy pills, your fairy godshrink, and a good heaping of guilt.
Fuck the prince, I suppose that is what I do, fuck the prince and send him away, there aint room in the damn cage, the fairy godshrink is going to turn you into a toad, and I secretly love you but hate you, and trust me, life sucks in the pretty cage. You can’t win, you can be the best fucking prince in the world, and all you’ll get is a fuck, you’ll give me all the treasures in the world, I’ll love you and then kill you. Kill you for having all the feelings I can’t have, kill you because you make me guilty, kill you because you make me feel, kill you because feeling hurts, kill you because that’s all I know what to do. Gilded cage: occupancy: 1
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
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