here, take the end of this rope…now just hang there for eternity because you’re not allowed to let go

by kaleidegirl

I was just angry and frustrated. Now I’m also scared and fighting off the panic attack. The kind you get from feeling like you are actually running for your life because you were so traumatized as a child that even in the middle of the day with lights on everywhere you are terrified of the darkness and loud noise that there seems no logical explanation for.

I know I’ll be fine at some point but these periods, these random moments throughout each day where I feel so much like I just can’t take anything anymore…they are closer together and last longer each time and soon I may just fucking give up.

I’m done subscribing to the notion that just because EVERYONE on the planet has it worse than I do, I am not allowed to ever experience or express a negative emotion or thought without the guilt of a thousand catholics.

It is really tiring focusing so much energy on faking it. I can’t be lonely because I live in a nice house? I can’t be sad or feel ugly because my husband buys me things? I can’t hate the way I look to the point of wishing I could literally cut away the fat on my stomach, arms and thighs because other people think I look just fine or other people weigh more and somehow I’m evil for not being so in love with my appearance? I can’t be mentally ill because then I’m just a childish drama queen, so I have to fake it. Fake it for so long that I can’t even cry…but I finally did and it didn’t help. I thought it would. I thought, if I could just feel for a minute then I can get by a few more years.

and why the fuck can’t I just be? be me. be careless. be spontaneous. be able to change from one thing to another and then back again? be able to read more than one page of a book. be able to go to bed at night to the sound of music or the sound of silence? be fun instead of obnoxious. be in love without wondering if my feelings are real anymore? be silent when I have nothing to say? I am the queen of filling awkward silences and I hate it. why can’t I be someone that people want to talk to? why do I have to keep being?

fuck it.

 

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