I feel like a part of me just died right now.
I LOST A BLOG ACCOUNT…
This was the one thing that witnessed how I managed to exist from January until March of this year – before my sister arrived to save me from the brink of insanity. This blog was my only means to vent, and it was taken away from me.
I have not reread anything on there. I hardly remember what I wrote. I do not have any backups. All I remember was that it contained more entries than all my other previous blog accounts put together.
How can I expect others to understand the loss of three months of writing when they could have lost more than that but usually chalked it up to experience? I can’t. I can’t expect people to know how much loss I feel right now, neither can I expect them to empathize. To them, I guess I’m just an overly emotional (or over-acting) impulse blogger.
All I care about now is how I feel and how I want to remember my dear friend, now long deleted from the servers.
You have have been the dearest friend to me during the first and darkest quarter of this year. You have helped me through my depression greatly. Anytime I would feel like screaming and hitting myself or something, I simply started tapping on the keys and you received my thoughts gladly. I typed and typed as the tears streamed down my cheeks.
You were the only one I could pour out all my pain and misery to without worrying that you might have heard enough already. You accepted everything I had to say. Three entries per hour… five entries per day, sometimes more… I didn’t care. You didn’t care. You allowed me to be me, and mourn and hate and heal.
Morning… evening… even in the most ungodly hours of the night. You knew everything that was going on in my life then – you knew even more than I did and could remember. I was very lost and at the point of breaking but you got me through. As the words I typed stared back at me, understanding and realization hit me more and more.
Try as I might, I hardly have any vivid memories of those months. The only remaining vague ones are those of nightmares, hate and anxiety and longing, lack of sleep, breaking ties with the world, and a plethora of TV series which failed to distract my thoughts from him anyway. Only you could be able to tell me what happened to me and how I got through, but alas, you are no longer here. Those months are lost to me as you are to this world.
I feel something is terribly missing now, maybe like someone suffering from temporary amnesia. I know I existed somehow, but how, I hardly have a clue. I want with all my heart to find out how, but that is not possible anymore.
My sister says it must be a sign for me to move on, but the words stung as she said it. I don’t wish to move on if I don’t know part of what I’m moving away from.
Just like Tom Hanks in Cast Away, you have been my ‘Wilson’ – my anchor to sanity. And just like their ending, I had to be separated from you painfully and unwillingly.
For everything, I say farewell, and thank you.