I miss you. I hope you are doing alright. I can’t say the same for myself. I’m lonely. I’m hurting. And I don’t have anyone who actually matters that can relate and understand. It’s better if they don’t understand. No one knows how to deal with me at all, let alone well, but myself. And I don’t want it coming from me… that isn’t… So I don’t let them. I won’t ever put them in the position to help me, to see it all. I am not strong enough to handle the damage and neither are they. They will get hurt. Badly… I know I’m incapable of always truly pretending I’m alright. So I let them know just a little bit. Just enough. I broadcast my faults with a Cheshire cat’s grin. I admit I am unwell and open about the darkest parts, but only in my best, only in retrospect. I dare them believe me. Hopefully they do. They may think they do… They know I cut in the past, they don’t know I haven’t stopped. Still claim I am capable, that I should strive to achieve… pull myself together and be “me”. The me they believe I am. The me I’ve built for myself in their minds. So what if it hurts.
I tell I hurt, not when I hurt.
To be fair not aiming high wont lessen the pain so might as well, right? I will always need help. I will never want it. I don’t want to weigh on people to make my life… they do anyways… take care of me… help me… support me… in exchange for nothing. So I take, selfishly with a smile… so they don’t probe deeper, don’t give even more… so they don’t see the whole picture. I keep them close and blind…
I know I’m a monster.
I’m tired. And this tired has made a home out of my bones. I’m paying the price, I can’t help but just for a moment dream I didn’t make it like that. That I had people around me that knew everything. who got how I feel. Who truly believed in me, the real me. Enough to argue with me. just once… only once… that I’m good… good enough. good in something. a good person. even if it’s a lie. someone to know how desperately I need to be lied to, just to hear that…
I try… I do what I want… It isn’t enough, doesn’t pay the bills. But it has to make at least a little bit of difference for others when I try to help, to do good. for everyone and anyone, at any time… it has to amount to something right? I’m not a complete waste, right?
Right?
3 comments
You’re not a complete waste, you are just in a position in life right now where you see yourself as being that way.
You’re not a monster. Maybe, like many depressed people, you’re all up in your head.
Endlessly weighing yourself and finding yourself too light.
You’re thoughtful and contemplative and remorseful, empathetic. So no need to worry about monsters. Just trapped in head patterns, the awful things. I imagine being tired can contribute to it. Personally, coming to view a period of ongoing exhaustion is having a lot to do with my own recent imbalance. Take rest, lay outside for a little while if you can. Thank you for sharing.