It’s so overwhelming. Annoying to know that I’m still not strong enough to keep things from having so much power or control over me.
I know others would say “you’re human after all”, but fuck that. I know i’m too hard on myself. But I just feel like by now, I’d be IDK balanced? strong? mature? stable? enough to block out stuff.
It’s a constant drowning feeling. I can’t even poke my head out the water. EVER. Just gets darker. Colder. Harder to breathe. Pressure intensifies.
I just want to curl up. Cry.
Wish I didn’t have to take care of my body. Wish it could go without eating or drinking. So I could just lay in bed crying. Or making art. Or just trying to distract myself. But without having responsibilities.
No people to derail me. To throw me curve balls. No obstacles. And if there were any, they’d be those lousy little speed bumps.
But I know it comes down to being a matter of perspective. The things I’m going through right now could be seen as minor speed bumps. But that scares me. Cause they feel monumental. And if this is a minor speed bump, WTF else is coming ahead?
And that’s what makes living hard tbh. The uncertainty. Not knowing what’s ahead. Not knowing if it’s another speed bump or a fucking mountain.
I also just feel like a victim, I guess? Like WTF have I done to deserve this. And that’s a thing I think about all the time. Partially as a scientist. Fuck that. As a human. Thinking about improvement. Or maybe it’s just the avoidance. The thought of what did I do and how can I make sure I don’t do that again so this doesn’t happen again.
But when I reply things in my head, it sucks, cause I mean…there’s no going back. So feels like there’s no use in replaying or reanalyzing my actions. My words. To try to find a place where I could improve. A lesson somewhere in the past. Seems pointless.
Living is hard. And I wish I could take that for granted again.
I wish I could go back to the times where I was just living carefree (ish). A time where I didn’t feel old or young. I was just existing and didn’t have this amount of weight on my shoulders. In my heart. My heart. It feels like stone. Or marble. Idk. Something ridiculously hard and heavy.
Sometimes it drops to the pit of my stomach. My heart sinks. My body feels it. My mind knows. It focuses on that. On trying to soften it up. But no use.
I don’t want to become stone cold. But I also don’t want to become too emotional. Not because it’s a sign of weakness, but because then I am not “well-balanced”. I’m too depressed. Too anxious. Fear controls.
Fear. Controls.
It always has for me.
I just want to curl up and cry. Then I think about how long I’d keep that up for. So then, I’m like, well then after a good couple cries, just end it.
Cause this suffering seems never-ending. But again, uncertainty keeps me going. Ironically. Because it also paralyzes me. So maybe there is a mini optimist somewhere in there. A glimmer of hope that my heart might not be ALL stone.
As of late, I’ve thought about not having kids which is a big deal (i’ve always wanted to have them). And of course, it comes down to me being terrified. Scared. Fear.
Scared of not being a good mother. Scared of who the fuck would be the father. Am I capable of loving someone enough for them to be the father of my child? But that’s kinda old school thinking. It probably just comes down to, who would I like to raise a child with. Less about love, more about teamwork/support. Idk. Life’s weird these days in the bad ways.
I’m over it. But also telling myself that I can still find that little bit of strength left in me. But I feel like I’ve been cut more than 1000 times. Death by 1000 cuts. I’m past that and somehow still alive.
Not hopeful cause I know that I should have been dead. But somehow proud or surprised at how I’m still standing.
That victim mindset. Maybe that’s my issue? Who knows? Why are we so obsessed on figure out what’s “wrong” with us. We as in me lol. Why can’t I just fucking live? Oh right, expectations. Societal and self-imposed ones.
So three things have been identified.
- Fear
- Victim mindset
- Expectations
Fuck.
Can things PLEASE just get simpler. Easier. Please. Please please.
