The energy it takes to play pretend. So draining to play the part. You know you should smile but you do not feel it. You fake your reaction. You show them the face they expect to see. You act the emotion they want to feel. You tell them what they want to hear. Yet you know you are playing a part. You do not feel and do not understand why. You know some see through the charade but do nothing. You know they do not have the energy because of  their own masquerade.
“To know even one life breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.”-Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Makes sense except in my life it seems that those around me will breathe easier because I am dead. When my very existence seems to be that which causes them grief and sorrow. Am I selfish for wanting to live knowing that I should die?
Back on Effexor again. It was helping. Then the one person you love most and who you thought loved you yells at you and calls you a failure.
My name was……
I do not know who I am now, but can recall who I used to be. I am a male, but I am not a man. A man is strong, and can provide for his family. A man is never wrong.
He was weak. He did not earn what a family requires, and he made mistakes.
His past haunts me. I try so hard to move on yet at every turn his past clings to me and drags me back. The morass of his existence clings, and burdens. It swallows the light. It kills my soul. A stationary death.
Like an acid or virus […]