Faiz Abidin
3 min readAug 4, 2019

Notes from my iPhone – 8 May 2019 12:35AM

I ended up, every single night looking my horrible, fake self of mine in front of my room mirror.

An orange street light pouring into my room, reflecting myself that had gone a great day, I guess. A messy hair, a shirt that I wore since afternoon and texting my lady for a goodnight for her in order to continue for the next day.

What was I looking to? A broken self with a broken mindset, a horrible reality. Orange street light again, I realized – pouring into the white walls of my room and to the mirror that I saw. Myself partly black and unseen. But I know I was looking at myself.

I was and I am the worst man alive for myself. Maybe a post depression kind of thing but I keep blaming depression for something bad of me. This is wrong. It is me that broken into pieces.

I wish I know the reasons why.

I wish. I am blaming no-caffine if my day gone horrible. I blame myself every single time. I blame the reality that I hardly accept. I kept dragging myself and my problem around and messed up things, messed up the people that I loved. I stay away from conflicts that truly important and stressful.

I guess I shouldn’t be that so-called; alive.

What I’ve done to my reality? I didn’t achieve any.

I hurt people that I love, something like I push them away and apart of me. I hurt them.

I am toxic in a sense that I shouldn’t be around for anyone.

I make my parents worried to the reality that I am living in. I am never doing that good.

Anything good that I do, so just so to cover my badness. I hate myself. I got no selflove. I let myself drown with my problem. What is happening actually? Maybe I am over-reacting into stuff? Which I don’t know at this point.

For stupidly, I keep asking people – ‘I am I a good person? Am I a good man to a woman? Am I a good person to a friends? Am I good to my friend’s friend? Am I a good son to my family? Which any of it (in my life, texhnically) should be proud of?’

None.

I keep dragging those question, so that so I know what I am doing, so that so, I know I am doing the right thing and come home to hug myself.

I am lost, to the reality that I create with my own bare hands.

No, I didn’t ask someone to come and fix me.

No. I just begging myself to make each second that God making me stay, as an opportunity to grow and relive. To relove the self and rebuilding a relationship to the people that I care.

But no, I just keep dragging things around and messed up everything. Every fucking single thing that happen to me.

Sorry for now. I am getting there. Please everyone; stay. I need more time. Don’t help me.

Just stay, please.

(5 Aug 2019 4:29AM – turns out. They don’t. I lost, almost everything that I created and sadly including myself. I can’t hold everyone’s hands to me, to my soul. I know something, I got hands to holds myself, my life to stay because honestly I know what I felt – suicide is always an inch away. I wish them all the best and I am truly sorry for my badness. Yes, I keep on going; as long as I could.)

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