I’ve been tossed into an emotional pit, every time I fall into it I think, this is the last time. Clearly last time wasn’t nor will it ever be the “last time”. I’m finding the climb out more difficult when ever it happens. I keep wondering if it’s still part of my mourning process. If life is just harder than I expected. If I’m just not cut out for the process of it all. I find it very exhausting.
I find friendships difficult to maintain. They trouble me, wear me down. My relationship feels heavy around my neck and all I can imagine is, well not great things. I feel cast away. Set aside. And wonder, have I done this to myself?
In moments like this one, I’d like to lay day down and never wake up. The act of breathing is too much. My heart is too heavy. It pins me to the floor.
“I’m tired.” Doesn’t quite seem to cover the expanse of brain smoothing detachment I feel. Why is my cry for help silent? Why is it silent until I’m on the brink of quitting everything?
On Tumblr a few days ago I posted,
don’t be afraid to release what no longer serves you. It’s terrifying to look at your life and realize, nothing in it serves you.