There is a particular kind of heaviness that comes from never quite wanting to be here
Not necessarily because something happened. Not always because life has been unkind in some obvious, explainable ways. Though these things of course add weight…
I wonder sometimes if there was a mistake
Did whoever-is-in-charge, make a mistake in sending me here?
It's simply that living has never felt natural
Life is nonstop, the world just exists
People don’t seem to be as awkward as I am when moving through it… life
They seem to have the cheat code
To know how to want, how to look forward to tomorrow, and I’m left trying to understand how everyone makes it look so effortless
How they find the endurance…
People fall in love with their lives
Make plans, chase dreams, find meaning in the smallest things
They laugh without having to think about it, without fearing the days… chapters, where it becomes so hard to access
They wake up with somewhere to be, someone to see, something to anticipate
What must that feel like?….
To actually want tomorrow…more than not
To feel something inside you pulling you toward the future instead of having to drag yourself into it
I'm so painfully aware of how much effort it takes just to be a person
How exhausting it is to wake up every day and put on the face of someone who is managing
To answer questions, fulfill responsibilities, maintain relationships, make conversation, go to work, come home, sleep, and do it all again….
All while carrying this big secret…
The heaviness doesn't leave when the circumstances change
The sadness doesn't necessarily have a reason
You get so good at hiding…
An emptiness that makes even the happiest moments feel as though you're watching them happen from somewhere far away….
I long to stop having to work so hard to feel something that seems to come so naturally to everyone else
God, i’m tired.
Tired of trying to find reasons
Tired of searching for meaning
Tired of convincing myself that there must be something out there that will eventually make all this effort feel worthwhile
Tired of being told that life is beautiful when I've spent so much of it struggling to feel anything beautiful at all
And perhaps the most twisted part is that I don't necessarily want a remarkable life
I don’t ask for extraordinary happiness
I just want to know what it feels like to belong here…
To feel connected to my own existence
To experience a morning without immediately feeling the weight of having to live through another day
There is grief in that
A grief for the person I might have been if existing hadn't always felt so difficult
A grief for all the versions of myself that never got to experience the uncomplicated joy of simply being alive
Of wanting to live…
I don’t know even know what I'm grieving
Whatever the cause or source, its unbearably heavy
I wish I had the strength to keep searching, longing, hoping
I wish more than anything, that being alive didn't have to feel like something to survive
