A Fragile State of Mind

Hi. Is this thing on? Can you hear me? I’ve been in the shadows for a while, so you may not recognize me. Well… I don’t really recognize a lot in me lately so if you don’t either, that’s okay. Maybe that’s something we can work on together.

I don’t know if I’m safe or not. I think I’m trying to protect myself from me, mostly. My mind is a battleground. I don’t know if I’m good enough or not. I keep getting mixed reviews.

I think as creatures, we’re always trying to protect ourselves from ourselves. Right? They say we’re always our own worst enemy, our harshest critic. Why do we do that? Life is so hard as it is, there’s definitely enough shit to go around to make anyone feel bad for life. This world is fucked up. Why do we make it harder for ourselves? By ‘we’, I mean ‘I’; I can’t really speak for you. But if you feel that way, I feel ya.

I imagine what it would be like to not be a part of this world. It’s not that I want to die; I don’t. I’d still like to go to Nepal and see the Grand Canyon, hopefully get married. It’s just that everything hurts. my head. my heart. my feelings. my ego. my back. my pride. There’s a constant pit in my stomach.

I want to save the world, though, even if on some days I’m not sure that I want to be a part of it. I still have lofty ideas. Yet I was also told not to dream so big. Did I mention that the world is fucked up? Everything. Everyone. All the violence, racism, destruction, degradation, injustice, inequality. It’s hard to breathe with all this in the air. Then society tells you where you should or shouldn’t be by a certain age. It’s no wonder we — I — feel small and unworthy. Maybe I’m not good enough. I go back and forth between feeling despair and anger. Anger at the injustice. Despair at how long things have felt the same without a long-term hope of change on the horizon.

I just want to be better.

Where did these feelings come from?

I feel pangs of anger for things that happened in the past. I went through hell and had my heart broken. I mean this was real fucking heartbreak, not some bullshit bad breakup (even if the breakup was bad, which is indeed painful). But this… I had my heart ripped open. I had my innocence snatched. This was the first time life slapped me in the face, stole my lunch money, and left me on the curb. It happened so quickly. Everything changed and I never felt the same again.

I don’t like feeling this way; scared, anxious, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sometimes I feel confident I’ll make it out alive. And I can handle the world. Some days I’m drowning in slow motion and I can’t grasp my own hand to save myself. I get off on pep talks. Sometimes, they’re the only things to get me through the day. I got lost somewhere between the grief, the anger, and the sorrow.

I just want to be better.

If this is what healing looks like, it sucks.