MyUnfinished-business

The scratching isn’t working anymore. I think I feel so overwhelmed that it’s starting to make me numb, if that is even possible. I find my mind wandering more and more during the day, in the middle of conversations, or when I’m simply watching tv. Not the kind of wandering where you have something else on your mind you suddenly remembered or want to do, not the kind of wandering that is a thought or memory, no. The kind of wandering where I simply disappear and forget I even exist. My brain turns off, the noise around me stops too slowly for me to notice, and when I finally realize how detached I’ve become I still can’t force myself to move an inch. I stay there completely frozen for another minute or two, and truthfully I don’t want to come back to reality sometimes.

I often wonder… is this me? Am I here? Why can’t I feel anything? At other times I wonder why I feel so much. Simple things that shouldn’t bother me do. People who I shouldn’t let offend me or hurt me I still allow to. Honestly I feel I’m in an emotional roller coaster that has gone off the tracks and yet still hasn’t hit the ground. I’m so exhausted of being exhausted. I’m exhausted of feeling too much or too little. Being too emotional or dramatic. Being called crazy or immature. Too angry and yet too sensitive.

I just want to close my eyes and disappear… but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I also just want to be seen. There’s a lot that happens in my mind, past memories…trauma, sadness, pain, feeling I want to share and say out loud to someone who won’t look at me like I’m broken afterwards or worse not even know what to say after. So much I could say but haven’t because I’m already labeled as too emotional or too much.

They don’t really want to know what’s going on anyways. Why would they? Why would anyone care? Maybe I have people who care, and I mean truly care about me. Maybe if I opened up they’d comfort me, and maybe they’d understand me… for a while anyways. If I share how I feel I’m almost positive everywhere will care for Al of 5 minutes before they move on because like I said early they don’t really want to know, they have their own lives to live.

So here I sit, in the dark listening to sad music to be able feel something, alone, staring at my ceiling wondering if I can find another way to feel real. My head is pretty scabbed up, my legs are scars already. Maybe I can pitch myself? Or fire? Grip a knife? Punch the wall? I don’t know but it’s getting really hard to keep going alone.