everything's fucked

What I would say to my dad if I was capable of telling him how I feel.

Hi.

What possesses you to do what you do? Or do you just not care about the things that you do? Do you not care about the people in your life?

Like me.

The person who you helped create, me.

The person who stayed up wondering where you went, me.

Was it that easy to be so selfish with me?

It's okay, nowadays, I don't think about it.

Nowadays, I rather do everything but think about it.

I rip apart my life in a frantic effort to not think about it.

Drink, smoke, would rather poison myself than to have to think about it.

But when I'm all alone, it's all that I can really feel.

I see myself as a nobody, the same way that you saw me.

I discard myself, the same way you did to me.

I don't hate you, in fact, I love you. That's always what you want to hear.

But you don't deserve to hear it.

Why must you ask me to say things to make you feel complete when I feel half full, because of you.

The lessons of a father.

To work hard to be loved. To beg to be loved. To chase. To accept what I shouldn't. To be okay with what was not. To tread lightly so I don't disappoint. To feel frantic when I inevitably do. To feel fear when I lose.

Is that all that I get? Is that all that I deserve?

You don't deserve to hear it, don't force me to say it when it hurts.

I used to be angry at the world.

Except I hadn't known yet that it was you. You did that, it was all you.

And I didn't know. I didn't know.

Somehow I convinced myself it was my fault. Somehow I became the reason. I must have just not been enough.

So insignificant that even a father could forget you.

I mean, what else could it be?

Eventually, you come to the conclusion that it's you.

And you did that to me, you.

All I did was love you, innocently as daughters do, and what did I get from that?

I feel bad for you, cause maybe you've felt the same way I do.

Maybe we're alike in that way.

after my psychology class I find myself with many thoughts and emotions.

to make a long story short, I've thought about how significant psychology has been in my life. in an upbringing that had no emotional support, it was the emotional support I had.

it makes me emotional to think about it.

for all of the times I didn't understand what I was feeling, why I was feeling it, where it came from- there was an answer somewhere online to ease my nerves.

overtime I realize it's given me a sense of control I don't think I ever had.

I feel sadness for my younger self whenever I think about it because she had no one to guide her through these moments.

and that's not me saying I didn't have my mom there but my mom didn't know for quite some time, I didn't know how to tell her, the conversation never came up. and then when I did, she didn't understand and I couldn't bring myself to explain the extent of it.

how do I begin to explain that my mind feels like a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that I cannot control.

how do I begin to explain the origins of where it came from, when it began, when I didn't even know that myself.

after countless talks now as an adult I don't really care if she fully understands it or not so long as she listens. at times I can feel crazy while I ramble- the thought of sharing with her what I've hidden from her the most and knowing that she may or may not understand it, may or may not judge me for it, may or may not attempt to lecture me on it, may or may not invalidate me during it. I go against those thoughts and talk anyway. I'll hear myself talk and it'll feel like I'm sounding insane but I'm not. It's just how I perceive it due to shame.

I wouldn't have gotten this far had I not gotten into psychology and understood it for myself first. and even then, I'm no therapist or expert (although that's what I'm in school to be) but my understanding has helped me get this far and that's all that matters.

there's many things I wanna do to continue to heal my inner child. I want to write and make art and feel and cry and express how I feel to the world and hope to be listened to, hope that someone can relate, hope that I can shed the shame around my mental health.

I want to give that same space to others. to cry and express how they feel and shed the shame and confusion they feel around their mental health too.