It's simple really. I don't wanna be me.

I felt out of the place the second I stepped onto the boat. Everyone around me was drinking, smoking cigarettes and passing around joints. But silly me, so desperate to feel less alone, so determined to prove to myself that I did have friends, that I wasn't the 'sad little loser who spent the Mid-Autumn Festival at church and at home alone' while everyone was out. I knew I didn't really fit in anymore, knew it each time I stubbed out a half-smoked cigarette because it hurt my throat and then lit another one five minutes later.

It sickened me each time I overheard the way the guys were talking about girls. I always knew my old friends were different from my new ones, but I didn't realise just how much till that night. It was the little details, like how none of them offered to help me carry the bag of ice that they needed for their beers, or how none of them helped any of the girls onto the moving boat. I missed my church friends, missed how the guys would hold doors open for me and the respect that they treated me with.

But still, I was so eager to prove to myself that I could fit in around these "cool" people, because, what was I but a 'straight-living, be home before 10' kinda girl? And in this desperation and eagerness, I completely lost sight of what I valued and what really was important. The first drink I drank was to calm my nerves, the second to blur these people's personalities to make them seem more approachable, and the third...well it just felt like the most logical thing to do that the time. Gonna mess up? Well, then do it big.

And before I knew it, I was feeling great. No more loneliness, none of that neediness that I just hate in myself, just a feeling of 'I don't need anyone or anything' to feel okay. The intimacy that I crave with friends and loved ones didn't seem so scary anyone, because after those few drinks, I was queen of the world, completely self-sufficient and self-relient. Why is it so easy to believe in lies and not in the truth?

And so I begin my self-inflicted punishment now, as I have on every other countless occasions in my life where I wake up with a hangover and a world full of regret. I cling to this numbness and self-loathing, thinking that just maybe if I hate myself enough, it will somehow make up for the mistakes I made. The logic astounds me, but still guilt and shame drive me to hold on to this emptiness because I don't deserve to feel good or have peace. The darkness I run from everyday is in me, and I don't know how to get it out.

My God, my God, where are You? I can't bring myself to ask for forgiveness, even though that's the very thing I want. And until I can, I know I will just be this lone ship in the ocean, tossed about by the storms.