I'm getting more and more tired of Facebook. Everyone's statuses and all the posts from pages that I like and don't care to do anything about. Basically just about everything that comes up on my news feed. When I'm up for it I think I'll delete some of my friends from my friends list, people that only bother or bore me with their mere existence. No offence it's not really personal, it's just that I've become too picky about who I want to share my life with. As you may or may not know, I'm very open on Facebook, letting people know the real me and I'm comfortable with that.
I do feel the need to be open with those I still consider my friends. It's just that not many people are what I consider friends anymore. Because we've lost contact, don't quite care about each other or we're just acquaintances and never speak. Or I'm just fed up with all the crappy posts you make. No, I will most certainly not say any names, cause that just wouldn't sit right with me. I'm sure you understand. I don't want to talk crap about decent people that I happen to know in one way or another. I just don't care anymore.
I'm moving on from the life I once had in Uppsala, cause I don't live there anymore. I don't feel the need to hold on to a past just because I have trouble letting go. That goes for the people I once knew too, you're in my past, not the present time, obviously. I don't know who abandoned who, because it didn't happen instantly when I moved away, it had already started about a year before then. I lost touch with many of my friends because I was getting tired of going to parties.
I made it very clear that it wasn't you I tried to avoid, it was the intensity, the booze and the fact that the only times we saw each other was when we were drunk. That's not a way to build a friendship. Doesn't matter if my mental age is higher than yours, I feel and felt the need to have friends whom I could meet in a sober state and do other things with besides partying. Was that too much to ask of? Apparently yes. I realised then that I had nothing to hold on to in Uppsala. Even my best friends who still cared about me didn't have time to see me. I started to believe that the constant studying and/or working was an excuse to avoid seeing me.
My self esteem was very low. I hated myself, my friends and the miserable life I was trying to withstand. After a while I just gave up, called my mother and told her that I wanted to move in with her and the rest of my family again, on Gotland, hundreds of miles away from my life in Uppsala. I'm not saying it's your fault, I just couldn't find a way to communicate or see you, I blamed myself and thought you all stopped liking me. That I was useless, just a waste of air and all the comfort food I ate at the time being. I could barely stand go on living and I had no one to talk to except my mother, I felt like I didn't matter at all to anyone, that you'd be better off without me entirely. Moving to Gotland was in some way an emotional suicide.
And people ask me if I like it here. I had nowhere else to go to get the help that I needed. I started to become a regular at the mental institution in Uppsala, I was withering away in my own filth cause I couldn't take care of myself, couldn't pay the bills on time, spent all my money way too fast so I had nothing left to buy food with for the rest of the month, I ate myself to overweight, couldn't feel anything for anyone or anything, took the wrong medication that gave me horrible side effects because the mental health care system sucked so bad, I was incapable and nothing I tried to do myself was ever enough.
I needed you, but you weren't there for me. Those three years in Uppsala certainly weren't easy for me, it was the worst and the best time of my life. At least the first two years, the last one was what I just described. That year I was only miserable. Sometimes I can't help but feeling like I'm legally incompetent. I know it's a harsh thing to think, but just look at my life situation. There's not much at all that I can do entirely on my own. I'm very dependent on the people around me, and I hate that so much there's just no words for it.
I've come to accept it less and less, I unaccept it. I don't take the help I'm given, don't want the help, I just want to be left alone from all the caretakers and my family. The thought of running away is constantly nagging at me. I just wanna disappear into the wilderness and live on air and water without any sort of social connections until I die from starvation or something. To live without LSS, money, possessions or anything. Just for a little while, just for a little while... I fight back, reject the help I'm offered and try to do things on my own instead. Perhaps that is even a step into the right direction, I don't know, cause I'm still incapable, the problem doesn't go away just because I want it to. I just want to live on my own terms, but I never will.
I'm stuck in life, not getting anywhere no matter how hard I try. Sneaking behind my mother's back to buy and do things she wouldn't allow me to like some rebellious 12 year old. I'm 25 and still living under my parents' supervision and I'm worse at caring for myself than a 12 year old. In fact they are quite capable, aren't they? I just suck at living and I don't think I'll ever be able to live a normal life. That's what disabled means, isn't it?
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