The emptiness of life fills me everyday.
Suffocating me.
Blinding me.
The insecurities I thought I used to have,
Return to the surface full force.
Wanting desperately one connection,
One consistent, positive connection in my life to be a beacon of light.
To throw myself into fully.
To fill my mind with good things.
But it always takes a turn for the worse.
The opportunity presents itself.
I over analyze.
I over value.
I over feel.
Disappointment comes too soon.
Insecurity comes back again,
Making me see the emptiness of life,
Of my life.
For all I have accomplished,
For all I do have,
To know I am lucky, comparatively.
I too know I am not, comparatively.
Utter contentment is what I desire.
Striving for "happiness" is a never ending game.
Contentment, satisfaction, I can only achieve within.
But how?
I cannot remove the stress that has been begotten to me as my birthright.
I cannot remove the guilt of knowing once they are gone, the stress of that birthright will also be gone.
Constant, constant, constantly having to be the grown up one,
The one to solve the problems,
The one to take it all on, and let it build and build and build,
Until I'm being suffocated from within.
Losing the ability to take care of myself,
And ultimately of others.
Wanting that escape.
Wanting that one connection that doesn't drain me or drown me.
The cycle forever continues.
30 years involving survival and secrecy.
Negative self talk, positive self talk, chaos never ending.
Feelings of worthlessness beaten in,
Thoughts that it will get better, it has to get better.
Throwing myself wholly into all I do.
Missing life, missing living,
To get that A,
To know as much as I can,
To be correct,
To not feel stupid,
To not feel worthless,
To not feel embarrassed.
Striving to be "perfect" in the eyes that judge me, in the house of no stability.
Going through the motions.
Self worth slowly gained on my own.
The old lessons once forced upon me creeping in every so often.
It's getting worse as I get older.
I seem to stay in the same place,
While the entire universe slowly stretches farther and farther away.
Knowing life isn't worth living unless it is lived,
Unless it is shared.
A realist caught in an idealist's dream.
Alone. It is what it has always been.
And sadly I fear will always be.
I only have me to take care of me.
I am failing me now.
My childhood gone, my teenage years gone, my 20s gone,
My memories gone, only flashes of darkness remain.
Lost. Stolen. Wasted. Never to be retrieved.
Conditioned to only remember the bad, never the good.
Here I am now 30,
With the inability to believe that I am not a bother,
The inability to reach out,
The inability to feel truly connected to anyone.
Always "friends" with everybody,
Yet at the same time truly friends with nobody.
What is truth?
Those tears sure are real, that silence sure is real,
That deep palpitating feeling of longing sure feels real.
How to change perception?
How to change what has been ingrained so deeply?
The slap in the face of what I thought was progress,
When it turns out there hasn't been.
