Dudu*

Status: Uni...ew.
Joined: June 1, 2013
Last Seen: 4 hours
user id: 361860
Gender: F

This turned into my diary somehow.

 



I'm still learning new things about myself. I write when I can, I'm sorry for the spam, but not really.

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Quotes by Dudu*

Grey ceiling 2 cm above my head. Once I cracked through it the sky above was also grey. The glass roof that loomed over me for all these years...it was made of glass all along. Not cement. It weighed on my shoulders like a slab of concrete. Gross grey colour it drove me mad, why was it so hard to break through? Now I'm out in the open. I can see it for what it was. But the sky is still grey. The clouds are fortified with more tears than I could ever hold. I don't want to move. I feel like if I take a step in any direction the downpour will be too much for me. I want to crawl back into my concrete box. It's scarier outside. I wish I knew earlier the outside was just as bad. I should have known better than to seek help. The grey is slowly turning darker and I regret ever wanting better for myself. I was miserable inside but at least I wasn't scared for my life. Scared for my life. It's pitch black and I'm scared for my life. I don't understand. Why was the glass ceiling glass. Why is the sky so black. and since when did I care so much about my life that I'm afraid to lose it? Is this the lesson. Am I supposed to be scared straight now? I don't know who I'd be if I wanted to live beyond this. Wanting more dragged me into this. I should have been happy in my tiny depressing world. I was so comfortable there. Miserable and suicidal yes...but I had found comfort in that. A part of me wanted more still. That part of me hatched away at the glass that felt like concrete. It's still hard. But if I was really as comfortable as I'm trying to manipulate myself into thinking I was, then I would not be here. I can't ever let myself be comfortable again. Here on out my comfort zone is synonymous to danger zone.
being sensitive isn't bad with you. it's like i'm reprogramming my brain. slowly relearning how to express things that hurt. i don't need to brush them aside or grow a thicker skin. with you it's perfectly fine to feel deeply. fine to feel upset. fine to feel how i feel. i don't need to suppress or mask my words with a joke with you. for that i'm thankful. 
i don't even know what this is. but hugging you is my favourite form of comfort. talking with you is how my favourite conversations are made. seeing you is the best part of my day. you say i do know what this is. i'll keep playing dumb. i'll keep holding your hand and making you smile. some days these little things are what keep me going. you say we don't need to label this. no pressure. we both know what this is. there's trust and exclusivity. i have your spare key and you always cook an extra serving for me. it's sweet and it's innocent and dare i say it... it seems a lot like love.
i'm fortunate to be comfortable enough with myself that i don't fear being alone. communication is important to me. it becomes important when you run into the language barrier with your parents on a daily basis. when expressing yourself is the most difficult thing to do. miscommunication galore. only clear communication done through an older sibling who has a better grasp of the other language. they're the middleman gatekeeper to having a deep conversation with my own parents. my trail of thought patched together with english. having to use elaborate confused sentences to describe how i'm doing. it's a whole headache. clear communication is very important to me. i don't want to keep being misunderstood. the idea of having no one to express my deepest thoughts and feelings to scares me more than being alone ever would.
i feel you get to me sometimes. i block you out but you keep tapping on my window. you say you love me but it's always been conditional. if i let you in again, the cycle just repeats. keep tapping away. that's all you know anyway...and i can't blame you for that. but at the same time, i can't be empathetic this time. this isn't a small favour. i lost interest in being 'the good daughter' a while ago. if i was never your 1st place then what's the point of racking brownie points and bending over backwards to make you happy? you had my respect when i thought you knew best and only wanted the best for me. i still love you. a part of my heart is designated to you...i've tried removing it but it won't budge. the thing is that i love myself more. i have to love myself enough for the both of us. because you have other priorities. meanwhile i'm my only priority. i don't get the luxury of having a plan B. this isn't a small favour. you can't make me out to be the odd one. this is important to me. this is my life. when will you understand?
gentle bobbing up and down. vast and great ocean is at a calm. buoy is content. this doesn't come often or easily. enjoy this.
time never healed anything. I remained bitter for as long as I wanted to. if I did something with that time then it would have been that something that healed the wounds. time is just flowing. time doesn't care if i'm hurting or not. time is as selfish as i am.
i always automatically smiled when i was told a picture was being taken. so i don't know how i really felt when looking back at them.
can you make this a little better? take this burden and share it. lessen the load. domino effect won't happen if we lean on eachother. be someone i can depend on. give me a reason to respect you. 
it's the type of self confidence that comes from within. not the one built up through working hard and being kind. it's the type of self confidence that was nurtured in the arms of parents who saw no one else but you. when you were young, you saw the love they had for you in their eyes, you could even feel their love in the words they spoke. i'll always envy that. i got hugs too, but it wasn't the same. i don't know if i can accept it but i seek that love elsewhere now. i'll keep working hard...i'll keep trying to be nice. it's just a bit sad really. i emulated the parts of my parents i saw the most and added some parts i had made on my own. that in itself was not enough. i can't compete with a chronic disease. i can't compete with near death experiences that make you cherish them more. i can't compete. i should be glad that i can't compete. i should be glad that i'm healthy. i am glad. i'm glad. for being born healthy, i am glad. for being born healthy in this family, i am...so very glad lucky