Because tears burn my eyes

It's 5 o'clock in the morning... literally...and I can't sleep.
This state of insomnia has given me the chance to think and put a lot into perspective.

This has been the worst school year of my life. Both literally, and emotionally. My head has been somewhere else and hasn't been the least bit focused, and I failed to achieve my best. I failed at life...and all for what?
I failed at life because I chose nights out partying over days spent home, cramming. However, I don't think it was completely my fault. No, there's no one else to blame but myself because I made the decision; but there are so many other factors that contributed. I'd prefer not to be at home, not that there's anything wrong with home, just that I'd prefer not to be there. Being around my family, in this house, carries a vibe that I don't appreciate nor enjoy. For some reason, this house depresses me. It's like moving in a slow river of blackness, just drifting in its darkness and cold, somehow seeking for comfort and warmth. Unfortunately, it is in my tears that I usually find this comfort and warmth, and the drown myself into long hours of sleep.

I believe I am unhappy. Simply, unhappy. I've had many 'conditions' diagnosed. I've been told I'm "depressed", or "bipolar". Some say I just have a ton of mood swings and when no one knows what to say, they tell me I have issues. Maybe I do, I wouldn't really know, but just having these things said makes everything worse. I definitely don't know what wrong with me, or what could be the cause of it. All I know is there it's hard to deal with life. This thought in itself is frustrating, because honestly, I've got everything I could ask for. My life isn't perfect, but there are a ton of things I should be grateful for that I have which many people don't. Yet, despite all this, I still happen to wallow in my own sadness, and this is pushing so close to a sharp edge, and I'm scared of the pain that I'll feel when I fall.

I remember having my life all planned out. I know exactly what I wanted, where I wanted to be and how I was going to get there. I was so sure of what I was going to become, and now, I'm just lost and confused. Everyday I hear about everyone else's plans and I need to sit back for a moment to evaluate what I want. It saddens me so much, that my life has gone off the path it was meant to follow, and now I'm walking through the dark, hoping to eventually see a light that might carry me forward to brighter things. But, if this light is only at the end of the tunnel, how am I meant to not stumble every 3 meters? Do I really deserve to stub my toe every step I take? Is it necessary for me to feel the cold gnawing at my skin? Or, does the dark really have to creep within in me, making me dark and soulless in places that once carried the golden rays of a warm summer's day?

I've tried talking to someone, but talking to people about myself is not something I can do easily. However, writing about it all is something I can do with ease. So, I continue to write, and even in my insomniac state of realization, I can say I somehow find joy. I find joy in writing, and being able to let the tears transform to words. Even when everything is stripped away from me, I can find comfort in writing, and knowing that somewhere, someone can understand my feelings once I put them into words. I'm constantly hoping that the words thrown at me will be erased once people understand, but my hopes are never met.

At the end of the day, I just really want to know what's in all this for me. Is there a life lesson I'm meant to learn? Will this somehow benefit me in years to come? I'm not sure... but for not, I know what I need to do and what I need to eradicate from my life and hopefully this senior year can be as exciting as it's meant to be. I'm not too sure about my future, but I'm hoping that once I get my 38 IB points (I'm being ambitious); my life will sort itself out. I'm hoping that once I start focusing more on me, and less on what everyone else around me is doing, or where they're going, my life will work out just fine. I say to myself everyday, that "If I'm still here, I'm still meant to do something". - and I'm hoping this is true.

I think that all I needed was the time away from the books, and the people to just sit down and think about it. Someone once told me, "It means nothing to talk about it, if you're not going to do anything to fix it," and now that I've got the time, I can fix 'it' and I can fix me.

I will fix me.