Hello dear reader(s)!
I just wanted to let you know that I have attempted numerous times to return to posting. I keep thinking there will be a better time but that time just keeps getting further and further out.
Everything I have facing me is probably nothing to a normal person. There are more than enough hours in the day for me to believe that everything I need to accomplish should be able to get done and not send me into a tail-spin. That is, if I was normal.
But I am not normal. I am very damaged. Both physically and mentally.
If I don’t feel awful physically (which is rather rare), I am probably in the midst of a covered anxiety attack. Maybe some will even catch me in a full-blown panic attack. Most probably won’t. They take a look at me with my seemingly healthy body and the smile on my face and think I am fine.
It’s not that I try to hide the fact I am struggling, it is that sometimes I am genuinely happy to see people, so I smile. Sometimes there really is fun going on in the middle of this shit-show and I just so happen to be relaxed enough to enjoy it. Maybe, for once, my feet aren’t hurting so bad that they are making me reconsider my thoughts on certain medications.
Or maybe I just don’t want to bring them down too. Nobody likes a Debby Downer unless they are laughing at the old SNL skit.
I have been trying to get help for how I feel physically for years. I have been trying to get help for my mental illnesses, or disorders, or whatever the fuck you call them for years, too. I have put myself into tremendous debt on a futile quest to get better. That just adds to it.
I didn’t ask for any of this. Contrary to the libertarian belief, there are some things you just can’t take personal responsibility for. From getting a cancer that hasn’t been linked to any lifestyle practices, to being misled by doctors, to losing a career I was beginning to excel in, (or any ability for a workplace career again), to my financial issues, to constantly being made to feel like I am not a worthy human being for this society…I didn’t ask for one fucking bit of it. It wasn’t my choices that brought it on.
I try as hard as I fucking can. Harder than anyone I know.
I do my absolute best not to make people feel the way some have made me feel. I let people know they are valued. I’m not a fucking saint, but I try so hard.
I make mistakes. In fact, I think much of my mistakes come from my good intentions. Sometimes, I try too hard. Sometimes, my attempts at keeping myself wanting to continue living lead me to make the mistakes I do. But we all make mistakes. Some of us don’t even try.
I’m tired. I’m tired of trying so hard for people who will never accept me anyway. I am tired of pretending that I can do this. I am tired of pretending I know what I am doing. I am tired of struggling against the force of the whirlpool that I have serious doubts I will ever be able to escape.
But what choice do I have? Should I let myself drown and be as weak as those mocking me from the shore because they have never even been in the water?
I am tired. I need help. I AM struggling.
But I guess that is a good thing because struggling means I haven’t given up.