Blind Lies

It settles in like a curious feline. Marking every inch and corner. Making itself at home. In a crowd of people I find myself alone. The environment around me becomes a roaring ocean and I am lost at sea. I’m not sure if I can swim my way out this time.

Anxiety fuels the beast named loneliness. And they reunite like two old friends sitting down for a beer. The two friends bring up reminder after reminder of the good ole days when they partied every day, using my body and mind as a playground. Welcoming in their other parasite friends, such as depression and panic.

It hurts more than I remember. As I lay in bed and barely summon the strength to do small tasks. This is what my weekends look like. During the week I simply settle into mindless routine that requires me to be busy and thoughtless. I prefer that part. I pretend that it’s my own choice I’m not feeling anything but I know better than that. The only emotions I am feeling are the negative ones. Anger seems to take root most of the time. It’s easy to give into. I wonder how long it will take me to snap out of the haze this time. To at least ride another manic high until I get pulled down into the valley again.

And you know your self worth doesn’t come from another’s love for you. But it is so hard to believe in yourself by yourself. You have no one to tell you that you’re beautiful, not just your body but your mind. That your dreams and beliefs are amazing. That your aspirations and goals are achievable. No one has loved you for you. They only see the physical. The appearance that you give to the world that means almost nothing compared to what you have within you. But no one has even gotten that far. No one has looked past the surface. And you wonder if someone ever will...

But I don’t understand it. I don’t know it’s origin. I don’t know why it feels so heavy. I constantly try to justify the weight. Everyone gets tired. Everyone feels this way from time to time. Other people’s problems are so, much, bigger.

Is it normal? To feel guilty for being sad? Because the sadness comes without reason, without cause, without any answers at all. So you make excuses because there is no explanation. And I’ve gone years and years thinking that it was normal to just push the pain away and ignore it. But it fights it’s way back. It demands to be heard. It demands to be felt.

But I’m so tired of feeling.

Is that you were here.

Here, right here, in my arms.

Where I could touch you and feel you.

Right here.

Where I held you so close to me there was no space inbetween.

Right here.

Where I feel the weight of your skin against mine.

Right here.

Where I felt complete.

Right here.

Where I felt loved.

And then I woke up.

And you were hundreds of miles away again.

And my heart broke.”

bringing emptiness and cold with no sight of regrowth.”

I feel like no one listens anymore.”