I have to repeat these words to myself on a daily basis recently.
I’ve been posting a lot of poems lately. Not every single one I’ve written, but a good chunk of them. It’s annoying because I want to save them and try and publish a poetry chapbook of my own, but I think there’s power in sharing an emotional struggle to ensure that no one ever truly feels alone in the battle with their own mental health. I feel that when we try harder to hide it from everyone, it’s when we feel the most alone and that we are a burden to those who love us.
I’ve uttered those words to my therapist a few times. “I feel like I’m becoming a burden.” It’s the anxiety/depression talking, I know. She’ll ask in response, “Who told you that you’ve become a burden?” and I have to admit that nobody has said it, that’s just how it feels. It’s crazy what a sick brain can convince you of.
On the outside she looks like she’s barely trying.
On the inside she feels like she’s slowly dying.
When would someone see the signs of a broken girl who’s running out of time?
Her mind – a hive of soul-killing ideas that she’s unworthy, unlovable, unwanted, undeniably unnecessary to anyone.
Check on your friends who smile through pain. Check on your friends who work hard to maintain some semblance that everything’s always okay come rain, come sun, come cloudy day –
for the face they wear is but a mask glue-filled cracks waiting for someone to finally ask “be honest, please, are you okay?” so they can admit “it’s all a display; i’m so damn tired of being awake, desperately looking to finally escape.”
I woke up this morning mad because a God who answers prayers didn’t answer mine.
I woke up this morning mad because God gave me more breaths than I wanted.
I woke up this morning mad because God said not yet.
I’m not asking desperately to die, and I’m not going to actually try but everyday I ask God why I can’t seem to feel him nearby. I don’t know how much more I can cry. I’m tired of looking up to the sky waiting for a reply, waiting for him to notify
me that it’s going to be okay someday and these troubled times are just a pathway to greatness that lies beyond what I can see, but right now I just want to be free – just not in a way that’s up to me.
I’m sorry for venting when you wanted quiet. I’m sorry for crying instead of just being silent. I’m sorry for thinking I had your shoulder to lean on. I’m sorry for relying on the vows we agreed on. I’m sorry for asking you to feel some emotion. I’m sorry for hoping you’d have a solution.
I’ll just go back to keeping to myself now that I know you don’t want to help.
I struggle a lot with extremely high expectations of myself, holding myself to unreasonably high standards, needing a lot of validation from others to think I’m not literally the worst teacher, employee, friend, wife, person, etc. It’s hard to live in my head some days, especially this year where we teachers have had to stop and adjust our entire teaching methodology to continue educating in a pandemic.
This post is hard for me to write, because every way I attempt to phrase my frustration makes it sound I’m just a sore loser and I’m not happy for others, and honestly none of that is true. I am not going to share this post on my social media because I don’t need the whispers of my coworkers in the hallway or family members at gatherings spreading half-truths. I just have feelings and words and my they didn’t feel sufficient in my journal.
It is fake though, full of smiling faces, pictures of places people go to escape what goes on behind the scenes.
We scroll mindlessly every night, think of how good everyone else has it while we sit and suffer because our life sucks in comparison.
A couple in love, a friend thriving in their career; we think we want what they have because we can’t see the bickering, the late nights, the feeling of being alone, the endless debt, the texts from another lover, the fear of losing it all with one mistake.
Social media makes us want what we can’t have when in reality, no one has it in the first place.
We can’t base our feelings on what we see online. I’m not going to keep making this mistake. I’m taking a fucking Facebook break.