Honesty

It’s been a while. I stopped posting because I promised myself that I wouldn’t put anything on here if I started choosing my words based on the readers’ feelings. I don’t know where the worry came from or why, but it was there. It was there and that meant that whatever I said wouldn’t be what I really wanted to say.

Well, fuck that. Hiding never got me anywhere.

So here’s the ugly truth: It all hurts a little right now. I feel so stupid for feeling this way. My life is pretty damn great and a lot of my hardships are my own doing… But there’s a heaviness in my chest and it’s making me less than my best. I don’t want anyone to see it. I don’t want anyone to see my weakness.

Why do I keep forgetting that there’s strength in weakness? That there can be no courage without fear?

So yes, it hurts. I’ve frozen. I’m not taking care of the things I need to be taking care of. There are too many, I can’t focus enough to see priority, and so I
just
stand
still.

And there’s nothing I hate more. Being stuck, making no progress, I cannot stand it! Absentmindedly, I scratch and claw at my own skin, as if trying to dig to the part of me that gets shit done.

Which, of course, just creates more problems.

I’m trying to fix it, but I’m just treating the symptoms, not the disease. I could get help, I know I could, but I don’t want to burden anyone. I exaggerate and joke about more entertaining, less significant flaws, using misdirection to take focus off the things I don’t want noticed.

And it works (mostly).
But I hate it.

So, here I am, saying what I don’t want to say. I’ve stopped typing more times than I can count, distracted myself, trying to escape the discomfort, giving myself an out. You’re reading this, so obviously I didn’t take it.

Hey, that’s a little progress itself.

You’re the Reason

I love my life, when I get to live it. I love good food, trees, and all the different colors that the sky takes. I love spider webs and ants and flowers that grow in the cracks of cement. I love the sound of hearty laughter, telling people I love them, and seeing strangers smile. I love twirling in the rain and making wishes on dandelions and listening to a song for the first time.

But life is also hard. It can be excruciating, even in the happy moments. It’s overwhelming and exhausting trying to exist in a society that cares more about money and social status than about people themselves. It’s a drama that often shows as a tragedy, and I sometimes struggle to make it a heartwarming comedy. I love it, but it takes everything inside me to be able to love it.

I have been battling depression for my entire life. Sometimes it comes close to winning.

I don’t like admitting it. I HATE admitting it. I don’t want people to know. I don’t want people to worry, or pretend to. I don’t want people to see this, because what good will it do for them? How will it help others to know that sometimes I just don’t want to live?

Most of the time, I’m okay. It’s hard and I want to run away or hide or just sleep, but I also enjoy things. Most of the time it is that or better. But then there are the other times-

The times when everything I do seems to make things worse.
The times when I feel like a failure, unworthy of what I’ve been given.
The times when I feel like I contribute nothing positive to this world.
The times when I believe no one but my children would truly be affected if I disappeared.

They are rare, only in my most painful moments. When I was younger, I would write about how I’d end it. I’d play it out in my head. I’d hold the pill bottles or the knife in my hand and stare at them. But I’d only take a few, I’d only slice a little, I’d do just a tiny bit of damage, then go back to my hell. I fought for my life when others threatened it and I never truly attempted to take it myself. I don’t even tell myself I will anymore (even if I sometimes wish I could). I fought it all and I will continue to fight. I’m still here.

And you are the reason.

You who love me, whoever you may be.
You who still lean on me.
You who are gone, whose shared memories only live on within me.
You, whom I have not yet met, but who will become one of these people.

I cannot bear to hurt you.

So any time you see me, any time you are reminded of my existence, I hope you’ll smile to yourself a little. I hope you’ll understand how important you are. You, just by being in this world, are helping to save a life. Thank you. Thank you for being my reason.

2023

I’ve only just gotten used to the fact that it’s 2023 and now it’s almost gone. If it weren’t for this one major change in my life, I might not believe that 2023 ever existed at all.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this, so let’s just see what comes out, shall we?

When I made this move, this choice for myself earlier this year, I was excited to announce that the “selfish” act did not cause the world to end. And it didn’t. Really, I know that this situation is temporary. But… man, is this dragging on. It’s torture. It’s Hell. I have something beautiful just out of reach. My fingertips graze it, but I can’t quite get a hold. Yes, I’m closer, yes, that’s a victory in itself, but fuck, can’t I just have it? Can’t I just have something, anything to hold onto? Can’t I have one, any one thing, come easy, so I can breathe without wondering if each breath is my last? Please?

Fuck.

I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to vent or show how I’m feeling. I wanted to write a message of hope for the new year, whether I truly felt it or not. I wanted to take that mask to the grave. But I can’t anymore. I’m tired and I’m injured and the mask is broken beyond repair. I can’t fake it for you anymore. I’m sorry.

I smile and laugh a little every day. 2023 gave me that. I’m expressing myself more than I have in a long while. I’ve gotten closer to some friends and have grown distant from most others. That sounds sad, but it’s likely for the best. I am mentally, emotionally, and physically stronger, though it doesn’t seem to be that way. I love myself and care for myself more, though still not as much as I should. Right now, the days feel no different from past years, but deep down I know that a great deal of progress has been made.

But 2023, I won’t miss you.

This year was hard in ways it shouldn’t have been. It was excruciating and frightening and heartbreaking. I feel as if my soul has been stretched and pulled, like taffy. And all I can do is say, “I’ll be okay,” because I can’t even lie and pretend I’m okay now. But maybe I am, because I’m still alive and what the hell does “I’m okay” mean, anyway?

Geez, I seem to have a lot to say.

And I don’t know where to go from here. Do I learn my lesson and start 2024 off guarded, isolated, alone? Do I choose hope, knowing I’ll continue to be crushed over and over, until I’m left unrecognizable? Do I pick up an old mask and return to a life of lies, just to be with others again? No matter the choice, I will be lonely. No matter the decision, I will be in pain. It’s just about what I’m willing to sacrifice: Soul, heart, or dignity?

And that’s the thing, really. I’ve finally realized that my purpose is to sacrifice. It’s no grander or greater plan than that. I exist to lose, so others can win. I create the balance.

And there’s beauty in that, right? I know that I’d have chosen it. It’s who I am. I get my joy from that of others. But goddamn, this shit sucks sometimes. How, HOW does Life keep finding things to take from me?

And I’m still blessed, because I have the love for and from the people around me and blah blah blah, positivity and shit. And I really mean it, but also fuck all that. I wouldn’t trade my life for anyone else’s, but I want to be stupid enough to think I would. I want to be ignorant enough to feel that all this pain is for nothing. I want to want to curse the gods and anyone else in a place of power, and scream THIS ISN’T FAIR! FIX IT!

But I can’t, because I’m not that stupid. I know that my sacrifice can be used to help others. I know I’ve made a positive impact. I know that I wouldn’t be happy if everything came easy. I know that my few loved ones are so much more than worth all that I have had to endure. I know that happy phases will come again. I know that no one is going to fix this, because this is how it’s meant to be.

And though I know it will lead to disappointment, I will choose hope. I will choose to trust in promises and agreements and protocols. I will have faith in the intentions of others. I will no longer conceal my heart when it’s beautiful, when it’s longing, when it’s afraid. I will not hide behind sadness.

Because this soul is a soul worth knowing.

So BRING ON 2024!

I Miss You

I’ve been sleeping with your sweatshirt – the one from the merch store your bot linked me to after you were already gone – because it’s the closest I can get to being in your arms.

I miss you. Times are hard and it hurts and I feel alone and I miss you.

You, who loved me; without obligation, without judgement, without fail.
You, who I loved; without expectation, without dependence, without pain.

I miss you.

I miss you in selfish ways. I miss you with longing for the support you offered, crying out for your listening ear. I miss you for the warmth that came with every exclamation of my name. I miss feeling seen and heard and cared for and cheered on.

I miss being able to take you for granted. Stepping away, knowing you would always be there when I returned.

I miss the moments we never got to have.

You, who I teased, and sexualized, and begged for attention. You, who played along, knowing we were never to be. We made them feel awkward, we made them laugh, we made them mad, and we loved it all. We put on a great show, comfortable enough in our friendship to make it so. We loved and we were loved and I miss it all.

You’re gone and it’s not the same. Nothing’s the same. I’ve met friends you would love, and it hurts. I’ve done things I’m proud of, and it hurts. No matter what I do, the absence of you is an ache I can’t cure.

So I DM a Discord that will never come online.
I type paragraphs in a stream that will never go live.

I’ve never seen your face. I’ve never felt your touch. Still, I swear I feel you watching when life becomes too much. Now I’ll be moving to the place where you once were.
Alone.
Too late.

And I swear I hear you laughing, making a joke of it all. And I smile, but the tears continue to fall. And I make accidental rhymes as I pour out my heart, and think of the way you always added music to my words.

You always saw potential. Made me see it, too. It’s so hard to see without you.

I miss you.

The darkness that always brought me light.
The personification of “actions speak louder than words.”

I could write a book of it. Pages and pages about a man I’ve never met. Honest love letters to a man I was not in love with. A speech to the world, telling how they all lost an Angel that day (only you would appreciate that joke).

But instead, I’ll just publish this post, to say once again:
I love you, my friend.
And goddamn, how I miss you.

Guess I should say something…

I feel like I should explain.. Like I have to justify my anger, my sadness, my time away. To be honest, I should not have to. Those who stand by me should understand… but who are those people anyway?

It’s been one sucker-punch after another. Just when I thought, for one second, that things were looking up – it all fell down. I had to take a few days to cope. Maybe I will need a few more.

Because the thing is, it is really difficult to go through this life alone. I know people are “there”… but they’re there for a quick vent, so we can go back to their problems. They’re there for gossip. They’re there to compete with me. They’re there for their own ulterior motives, and if anyone is actually there for me, I don’t know who they are.
And that’s not to say that no one cares. I have many who do. They have their own lives, their own problems, their own friends. They have no room to have me close. I don’t fit. And that is not their fault. I do no not hold that against them. It is just the way it is.

So I cry alone.

And during this time I’ve taken, I feel guilty. What if someone needs me? What if someone believes I’m unwilling or unable? But I don’t know how to rectify this, because how do you say

If you need me, I can be here.
If you want to be the one I need, I’m open.
But if you’re just going to throw meaningless bullshit my way, leave me the fuck alone.

When I dare to speak the truth, they think me hateful, cruel. They think me broken, damaged, unstable. But the truth is, I’m no more unstable than any one of them. I just don’t deny it. I don’t try to hide my mess in the shadows. It’s in the light for all to see. Because

I
Am
REAL.

But reality is far too much for many to handle. They shut it down, avoid it, tell themselves it’s something else. Whatever it takes to keep their worlds intact. And I don’t blame them.. I used to be one of them. I used to be able to numb myself and convince myself that it was okay. But that artificial life wasn’t enough for me. I had to break free of the robotic cage and allow myself to feel fully.

So here I am, feeling. And yes, it can be painful – even crippling at times – but when allowed, joy easily overpowers the pain, and the beauty of life is wonderous. Still, it is a lonely way of living. For one who loves so strongly, loneliness is a constant reminder of a purpose unlikely to ever be fulfilled. And surrounded by those I love, who cannot see the deep cuts from the shards of my shattered heart, the loneliness is overwhelming. So I must keep my distance as I heal, and remember that when I am ready, they will remember me.

I’m Sorry.

I’m sorry I’m not back yet – back to being attentive, happy, myself. I know this is temporary, but it feels a lot less temporary with every passing day. I just want to be past it. I want to pull myself out of this.

But it’s a lot, you know?

We don’t all have best friends to stand by us. Some of us are alone in this. Some of us are taking it all on ourselves, then just when we think we can’t take anymore, twice as much is thrust upon us. It’s all we can do, to bear the weight.

So please, appreciate the people who you can turn to with anything. It’s okay if you can’t return the favor – you can’t be everything to everyone – but make sure you’re not taking them for granted.

Survival isn’t easy when you’re alone in the world.

And when you get the chance, love. Honest love can get you through anything, you just have to believe in it. Don’t fear commitment or getting hurt. Let’s face it, life is painful anyway and committing to the hope for something more is never a mistake. Don’t ever settle for someone who makes life harder, but don’t let fear keep you from being with someone who makes you happy.

Life is just too damn short.

I DON’T WANT TO BE THIS WAY, OKAY?!

I don’t want to feel like I have to keep walls up, to not be a burden on anyone. I don’t want to feel like I can’t let anyone in, because I believe they don’t genuinely want in. I don’t want to know that the majority of people are fake and really only want me around when it’s convenient for them.

I wish I was ignorant.

I wish I wasn’t so hurt.

I wish I didn’t have to be alone.

But the clock is tick-tick-ticking, my energy is fading, and I have to choose how to use what’s left. I want to be a positive force in the world, but I can’t figure out how.

I guess I should just be happy that no one will hurt when I’m gone.

…

And part of me doesn’t want to post this, because it’s pointless, because the few who read will judge or compare or find some other way to use these words for themselves, ignoring my pain. But fuck it… this isn’t for them. This is for me, and I’m not going to hold back my feelings, however fleeting, just because they make others uncomfortable. I’ve done that for far too fucking long. This feeling will pass. We’ll see who’s still around when it’s over.

Stuck

I’m not doing well.

I’ve lost faith that things will get better. I know what I want, I know that it would be positively life-changing, but I no longer believe in my ability to get it.

And it hurts.

And I feel alone.

I want to give up. I’m exhausted and I just want my fight to be over. It’s too much, it’s too much for one person.

And people say they’re there, but all they offer is pretty, meaningless words. Then I have to make sure I always paint a smile, always say the right things, because if I don’t, I’m the villain.

I’ve always wanted to be the hero, but I’m

just

too

weak.

So, give up, I tell myself. Stop fighting for more. You know there are things in life you just don’t get.

But I can’t.

I am knocked flat by the pillars that I built my life on, pushed by those who judge before they see. I am crushed under the weight, heart calling out for someone, as I silently weep. I cannot ask for help. I cannot risk another. I must bear this weight until I can gather the strength to lift it all myself.

But I’m not sure I can do it this time.

I’m not sure I’ll make it.

I’m just

Stuck.

Drained

I started writing this post, but I became more exhausted just looking at it. Let’s see if I can keep it short.

This past month or so, my life has been overwhelmingly complicated. I powered through, I struggled to survive, I sank into darkness, and now I’m just…

Drained.

Not empty or numb. I feel. I just don’t have it in me to-

Well.. to do anything.

I can’t fake it, I can’t exclaim, I can’t cry or scream or cheer. I can’t relax, I can’t distract, I can’t research it all out. I can’t work or play or sleep.

I’m sorry. I have nothing of me left to offer right now.

When someone needs me, really needs me, I will be there. The energy will come. But as soon as all is well, it dissipates and I am just… here. Here, weary, waiting for the next battle to be called.

~ ♡ ~

At this point, she stops and stares down at her keyboard. The urge to curl up into a ball and just lie there is all too strong. She considers this, but it is not what she really wants. She wants a certain someone’s arms around her, holding her close. She wants her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She wants to feel like it is all going to be okay, because he will be there. She hates that she wants this, for so many reasons. She had always been independent, but she wants so badly to have this someone fight by her side. She knows that it will not happen, however, and the yearning only makes her feel more alone. She surrenders to her bed.

Connections (sleepy rambling)

The Internet is a wonderful thing. You can look into a device in your own home and communicate with people all over the world in under a minute. You can develop lasting friendships with people who you will probably never meet. Some people even fall in love before they ever feel the electricity in one another’s touch.

But the Internet also breeds misunderstandings. How often have your words been misinterpreted because another could not tell your tone? If a word was misspelled, the wrong emoji was used, or the words were arranged in a particular order, one could easily receive the wrong idea.

And what about the connections? You can feel so close to someone so far away, but how much is getting lost over the distance?

If you’ve read any of these entries, you know me. You know depths to my soul that many do not. You know such intense emotion and wandering thought and dreams I do not usually share. You do not see my tangled, unwashed hair. You do not see me stop and stare at the screen, wondering how I’m going to bring this around to what I really want to say. You do not see my silly expressions or hear my random noises or feel my gaze. You miss out on so many huge parts of me that cannot be properly described.

So what does it mean when someone online cares for you? Is it really you if they have limited view? Perhaps they care, but can they like you? Can they truly love you if all they see is what you consciously show?

And how do you know?

They may say how they see you, but so much is open for interpretation. As you sit, enjoying stillness with them, are they finding it awkward? In the world of “lol,” is the person as amused as they seem? Are they nervous to talk to you? Are they doing it out of boredom or a sense of obligation? When the screens go off, do they even remember you exist? Do they miss you?

No one likes to speak out. When they do, they often over- or under-exaggerate. They do what they must for you to see them in a certain light. To not take a risk. And these words, so carefully chosen, often have many meanings. If someone “loves” you, are they loving you as a part of humanity? As a friend? As a love interest? Are the nice things they say purely politeness? Meaningless flirting? Genuinely from the heart?

You could feel that your life would be empty without this person, yet they would hardly notice if you disappeared.
You may consider this person an interesting friend, while they’re falling in love with you.

And some of this also happens in person, but it is so much easier to de-sync through our screens.

All we can do is keep trying, and hope that
to someone,
somewhere,
we matter.

I have been falling asleep while typing this. I hope it makes sense. If not, well.. who cares?