There’s nothing worse than feeling lonely. Like feeling like no one understands how you feel, how you hurt, and how to help you heal. It’s mean awhile since I’ve posted. I thought things were getting better, but I let myself believe the untrue. Things aren’t better. Yes, I have a new job that I am absolutely loving, I’ve managed to weather it through the last 7 months and come through in one piece.
But that one piece is a facade. It’s not real. Upon a closer look you will find a beaten down, broken person, who doesn’t know who or where to go. I’ve lost a lot. My pride. My dignity. My sense of security. It’s all gone. I live day to day waiting for my world to come crashing down.
And really, that’s the anxiety. I get that. That’s my beast to carry. That’s my burden. That I’ll always have to fucking deal with. It’s not going anywhere anytime soon. No matter how much meds I take, how much self care I put into myself, or how much I talk about it to someone who truly doesn’t understand. It’s there. Like a ticking bomb ready to explode.
Even someone with anxiety can someone get it, but no one really knows what it’s like to constantly think about the worse case scenarios at every turn. To never be truly happy. To wonder if it will ever get better.
My old habits have come back. Crying in secret into a towel in the bathroom. Not owning up to my feelings and thoughts in fear that I will hurt someone’s feelings, despite them hurting me. And the suppression. The suppression weighs the most on me. Because why not? Suppression is the easiest choice. It’s the best way to “forget” and move on. But you can’t ever really forget can you? All the horrible things you’ve done, said, and worrying about the future.
Maybe I need help. Maybe I can’t fight this on my own. And that is probably true. But the guilt of owning up to that with my family, the stress I could cause them, takes over and tells me to not to ask for help. That I’m stronger than this weak person I’m acting like. Atlas got help from Hercules, but was tricked back into holding the world. Regardless, I’m always going to be Atlas. Doesn’t matter if I get help. I’m destined to be Atlas.