So I am gutted. The insides are on the out. I just spent the last hour crying in the bathroom stall at my job. I thought I had this beat. But it keeps gutting me. He broke up with me. He said he probably will never love me. What more is left to be said.
My bipolar is fucking with me. I am riding this high and low that “normal” people don’t feel. I know you are supposed to grieve during a break up, but this is literally gutting me. I just tried to eat and I almost threw it up. Food tastes like ash. I loved you so deeply and you don’t feel anything for me. Ouch. I invested two years of my life.
I knew it was wrong. I hid behind you. I would only saw you once a month because it was easier not to have to dress up every day to see you because let’s face it I am hideous without any makeup and a salon appointment. You haven’t kissed me in almost a year. And yet I stayed. We never had sex. And yet I stayed. I hid behind you. I never went out and socialized because I feel I am too fat and ugly. I never met your parents or your friends. Because I didn’t want to. I am too fat and ugly to meet anyone you know. I haven’t seen my high school friends because they are all gorgeous and married and I am fat and ugly. This is my life. This is how I feel.
I didn’t love myself that’s why you left me. I am my own worst critic. I look in the mirror and want to smash it that’s how ugly I am. You didn’t leave me because I was ugly. You wouldn’t have stayed two years if I turned you off so much. It is me. It starts with me. It ends with me.
I wish I knew the art of self love. I wish I could walk around with my head high.
I am lost.
I am alone.
I am bipolar.