I am going to do something I never done before… share my deepest, darkest, innermost thoughts. When you get done reading it you may think I am a whack job. Maybe an emo. Maybe a spycho. Or maybe a normal human being who hurts like everyone, loves like everyone, and breathes like everyone… but just remember we all have skeletons in the closet.
So to tell you how I feel I will have to dig deep. Deeper than I ever have before. Deeper than the wound of your lover cheating on you. Deeper than the trench in the ocean. Deeper than any pain or hurt you could imagine. I must go deep.
Have you ever felt so empty you could not begin to describe how empty you felt? So empty that not even God seems to fill you. So empty that food would never satisfy. Crazy isn’t it? How bout this.
You ever felt so much hurt that it felt numb. Bled so many tears you couldn’t cry anymore? Breaking down is a normal thing for you, and you literally schedule a time to cry because you know it’s time to. Not that you necessarily have a legit reason as of late, but you know deep down, “okay, time to shed the last bit of salt water in my body.” Ever felt that?
Ever stressed so much that your stresses turn into nightmares. That vivid scene portrayed in your mind becomes reality. For a moment. But a moment too long. Nightmares depicted so vividly you feel the pain when you wake up. I had a dream I was running, Barefoot on rocks. My feet bled and I sobbed as I tried to escape my rapist. I woke up, fists clenched and my feet aching as I got up to get ready for work. It’s becoming a normal thing for me. Yes, I will never get used to it, but it is a normal thing. It is a normal thing for me to stress so much it affects my breathing. I hyperventilate. I stare into space. Thoughtless. Motivation withered away. Apathy settled in and there I am alone.
Have you ever felt so alone, that you don’t even acknowledge others existing around you? I walked the street and didn’t see people. Or cars. Not houses… I saw nature. Cows and birds chirping. Horses and an occasional squirrel… but no one else but me around. God was there, but I couldn’t feel Him. I felt alone. So lonely you cry yourself to a panic. Ever felt that? Knowing you have absolutely no one to talk to. No one cares to understand you, only to give you there opinion on why you feel alone, and what you should do to fix it. They don’t bother to help you, or comfort you. They don’t bother to understand… just tell you what they think. Well, here’s what I think. I think suicide.
You ever thought about after life? How amazing heaven must be. And how, if it’s so perfect, why are we still here. What’s the point to live if living isn’t even living. I feel like I am surviving. I can’t even make it on my own, how is life worth living if I can’t live. But as soon as you prepare to take your life you think of those who love you… your husband. Your wife. Your brother. Sister. Mother. Father. Friend. Co-worker. How many people would I affect? Am I even that important to this world? How would I be missed. Would it? How long? How long till they’d move on…
Ever felt trapped? Take a wrong turn but there’s no uturns. No way to turn back around and make the right turn. No way to get those around you to understand that your GPS lost signal. Time to recalculate. Time to reboot my friendship… is it even worth it?
I am depressed. I have anxiety. And the doctors have told me to take the meds, but I don’t want to! I am not a loony person. I am in no need of something to alter my personality… I rather feel nothing. And that’s what I am is nothing. I can’t say everything I feel, words can’t describe sometimes. If you feel nothing, how can it be compared to anything? If you feel a deep hurt, how will anyone know unless they are you? How will anyone know things people have said about you? And how being called easy by your own father hurt you so much. That being called a whore by numerous people changed you. That being called ditsy made you feel like you couldn’t accomplish much. That words cut like knives. Or maybe even machetes. Words completely cut off my life. I feel kinda dead inside. Ever been called a bitch? Or a f****** b****? yeah. It doesn’t feel good. Especially when you been sheltered your whole life. You know nothing. Nothing about paying bills, social life, work, or, you know… life. It’s all so knew I am I am screwed. I am done with life. And to be honest if I didn’t live another day it may be better for everyone.