The zombie I know and other ramblings

Mez's blog entry #25

TW: suicide, SH
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The dust in my brain, distressed from the storm created last year, has finally come to settle. It took its damn time for sure, but I'm content. Peace may finally be upon me, after countless sleepless nights of the guilt and greif gnawing on my bones and flesh. 
I have the impulse to write publically about this, on SpaceHey too of all places. Perhaps the audience here will enjoy these semi-poetic ramblings congured up in an exhausted, heartstricken haze. I feel anonymous here - just another voice in the wind. The zombie can't find me here. None of them can. 
2025 was by far one of the hardest years of my life so far, if not the worst year. It was the climax that all previous years had built up to, and it changed me in ways that I don't think I'll ever fully know of. This time last year, I was facing the worst depression of my life, and it very nearly killed me. I'm eternally grateful I'm no longer in that dark place, but the effects of it are embedded deep into my brain. 
They tried to end their life towards the end of March 2025. Perhaps it was to be free of me, to spite me and wear down my soul further - most likely it was for alternative reasons, though thoughts like these do cross my mind on the occasion. I remember things they told me beforehand, and I remember breaking down sobbing and wailing because I knew what was going to happen, and I felt powerless to stop it. Those days I was so beaten down and hopeless that I had no shame for the ugly screams and sobs; ugly was all that remained of me. 
I use 'they' because their name is like a curse to me - merely mentioning them would summon their ghost to haunt me, and I want to let it rest. This person was one that I was extremely attatched to, unhealthily and toxically attatched to, to the point where I was unable to function because the sick obession had its nasty yellow teeth embedded in my flesh and bones and wouldn't let me go. Thoughts would repeat over and over and over in my head: 'what if they don't like me?' 'what if they leave me?' 'what if they died?'. My stomach became a pit of dread and even thinking about this person or talking to them would leave me shaking. But yet I had become addicted, and there was no way to stop. I had become trapped in a prison, and the prison was my own mind. Over the 2-3 years I knew them, the mental exhaustion, the inability to eat, the throwing up, had worn down on my soul to reveal the ugly I was talking about earlier. I was ugly and slowly dying. I began to tear through my own flesh, desperate to let this pain out some way or another. My whole body was filled with anxieties and dread that all I wanted was to be gone. I wanted to be ripped open and torn apart to disperse all my emotion and pain - to let it all out finally, so I could finally rest.

(TW: disturbing imagery, gore) 
Drawings I made in class during panic attacks: 1 2 3 4

After their attempt they refused to talk to me. They took the opportunity to cut me out of their life, and part of me is grateful for it. With this unwillingness to talk to me came a chance for me to finally heal after years of obsession, though the journey would be long and painful. There was so much pain around this time, and guilt. So much guilt. They tired to blame me for their decision, and that blaming affected me deeply. 
I was in a very unique position. While everyone was welcoming them back, to me they really did succeed that day. To me they're dead, and I helped kill them. Because of this, I felt quite alone and isolated - there was no one that I could really turn to for support or guidence because they had no idea what went on between us. I was dealing with immense guilt and greif over someone that I used to care about, with nowhere for it to go. Perhaps that's why it's taken over a year for me to finally feel like I've moved on, why I had so many nightmares and panic attacks months after they broke contact, why still to this day I cannot deal with the idea of people leaving me, why these ugly parts of me are still exposed. 
I'm dealing with a real zombie, one I see often. A mere silhouette of someone that I used to know. And, like a zombie, they're still after my brain.

I'm missing out many aspects to this story, as the whole situation lasted 3 years and many memories have been buried deep into my subconscious, and trying to bring them back up doesn't usually end well. I was a child throughout all of this, and one that did not fully understand my emotions and how to deal with them. I've made many mistakes that I look back upon in shame.
I still don't know the reason for this reflection. I feel the need to let my side of the story out into the open, after a year of being deadly afraid to do so: 'what if they see?' 'what if I make them upset?', the damage has been done already, and if I feel it will help me heal, then so be it. 

Feel free to leave a comment, or don't. Don't mind how the tone for this blog is vastly different from my others -  I'm writing this all at 1am and in the mood to try write something more serious.
More LOL XD blogs coming in the future.
Stay safe everyone