Why does everyone around me seem so happy?
Like I know a lot of them are struggling, but they all seem to be doing one hell of a job pretending. They all seem to be so perfect at looking happy. And I'm so damn jealous.
I'm tired of feeling sad, all the time. Tired of feeling out of place. Tired of feeling like a burden. Tired of feeling like I don't belong. Too good for hell, not good enough for heaven.
I wish my mask was perfect and in place all the time. I wish I didn't breakdown in class sometimes, or cry in front of people in church. I wish I was unreadable to my parents and my brothers. I wish my friends didn't have to see me at struggle so many times that they're now like, ‘again?’
They say that it gets better with time. They say, hold on for a while and watch the sun shine on a new day. They say… they say… they say…
But for how long do I have to wait. Because every time I think I'm okay right, everytime I think that hey! Things are finally looking up, I get knocked down again. By my fuckin brain. Do you know what it's like to be your own worst op?
When does it stop? When will it end? When can I finally rest?
Everywhere I look, it's like I'm the only one who can't get their shit together. Who can't keep her emotions in check. Sure others are struggling but they're controlling it. They're managing. I'm not. I'm barely holding on.
I can't function. I'm not following basic human rules i.e taking care of myself. I'm not taking care of my space. I'm just moving like a zombie.
But I don't know for how long I can do this. I don't know how many times I will have to pick myself up.
I'm scared that one day I'll wake up, and I'll stop caring what people think. Counterintuitive right? Most people want to stop caring what what people think. But not me. People thinking that I'm a selfish, ungrateful bitch who only thinks about herself is what's keeping me here. I'm too busy trying to correct their notions and I keep screaming ‘hey, hey, I'm just a girl with issues who's trying her best.’
That busy-ness is why I'm still here. And I'm scared it'll stop mattering to me. But oh how I want to be here.