Chapter 17: The Void I Felt

A fiasco night.

At a 5-day recovery stage, I made the matter worse. All kinds of emotions when I was pushed by a wheelchair, not too long, to a hospital bed. This was not what I wanted. Guilt-tripping, a sense of responsibility, made me beg to be discharged. On a positive note, and probably the only thing that made me smile, is when my bola friends contribute to my hospital bills. It caught me off guard as I wasn't expecting any of this. I felt so thankful and grateful. Instead, I returned the offer. I'm probably trying to claim from insurance. I received the amount of care and concern from others, but not from my own family. That's fucking sad. 

Then came along an utterly horrifying text message. Doesn't matter if I explain. Sucks to be me to not have a place of my own. House rules and whatnots. My life was already broken a long time ago. Sometimes I wish I were older, only because I need a roof over my head. I'm done renting over and over again. 

Now, I'm back to where I started. Moving from one place to another. I'm exhausted. As shitty as it sounds, I'm sucking up to it. With no appetite, lack of sleep, bawling my eyes out, I feared those days reappearing again. I had suicidal thoughts, again. Are these signs of depression? I asked myself.

I want to be whole again. But, can I?

Remember when I mentioned a burden for life? Yes, that burden is haunting me every single day. 

No one respected my decision. Pops threw me away. Pops kept storm. Everyone was against me. Everyone said I'll end up in hell. Everything happened in a single night. No such thing as blood is thicker than water.

A few years passed, and everyone wanted me to be part of storm. I listened only because I had no choice.

But was it fair? Why do I have to be forced to be responsible? Recently, I was asked if my decision would be the same over the years. And my answer is, yes. I'm very adamant, and I know myself very well. 

Is it too late to give storm up? It's not. I need to make a wise decision. I mean, I've seen the growth, but I should stop torturing storm and myself. Each time I look at storm, I see my past, and I can't have peace. I know I can't fight god's plan. But I can still decide my future. If all things fail, I will accept my fate.

As I'm penning my thoughts down, I see how fucked up my life is. I feel so disgusted, disgracing myself. I tend to push people away and stay in the dark because no good will come from this. That no one can help. And I'm too ego to receive help. It felt like someone was stepping on my pride. It felt like a sharp knife grazing my sadist heart. I'm in so much pain. I thought I wouldn't cry again, but I was wrong. I'm broken. All these years, trying to be strong got washed away down the drain.

It feels like I'm undeserving of happiness and love altogether. That I am undeserving of reliving my youth, to continue the sport that I love. I've suffered throughout my youth, haven't I? Maybe I should just walk away from everything. Maybe I should do what people expect me to do. But I know I can't. I'm going back and forth. I'm in circles. Even if I die, I will be blamed. That's how sad. 😞

Emotionally, Physically & Mentally drained.