I wrote this last night and thought this morning of deleting it.
“You were just whining.”
“Your life is great.”
“Look at everything you have, everything you’ve done.”
These are all things that have been said to me over the years, they’re all true.
Logically I have no reason to be down, my life is good. I have so much more than some people could even dream of. The fact that I can even sit down and eat everyday is more than some people have. I have a job, a car, a house … I can afford to travel.
I have a child that I’ve somehow managed to not screw up.
Logically I’m doing great and that’s what people see when they look at me. I know that’s what prompts the comments I get.
The reality is that my brain is broken.
So one day I’ll be sitting at work and I’ll be fine then something will just hit me. I won’t know what it is. I won’t understand.
I’ll just want nothing more than to go hide. I won’t want to go to work. I won’t want to write. I won’t want to cook or clean or be responsible.
It will just all be too much and it will be sudden.
I’ll get anxious. I’ll want to run.
But after years of doing this, cycling through it and talking to therapists, I know it will pass.
I know how to take care of myself through it now.
But life doesn’t sit there and wait for me. People don’t understand when they look at me. I have to force myself to be responsible then I have to let myself break down.
Quietly. Away from where others can see.
I guess it’s improvement.
My head hurt
So I just kept drinking.
Now I can’t feel
Or my heart,
Or the ache
That I’ve buried
Deep under this art.
But the tears keep coming
Like I’m mourning
This dead end
Dry crumbling piece of me.
I guess it’s improvement
I just didn’t cry
Because I didn’t feel
Anything at all.