Inner Me.

I’ve realised I’ve bottled up a lot of things. A lot of fears; a lot of dreams I fear will turn to nightmares and will then become reality.

I thought I’d reached a point in my life where opening up became a little easier but i can see that I still hold on to thoughts of, “Why open up to someone who can’t relate?”.

Yesterday was the first time in a long time I felt sorrow turn into rage. Instead of tears, all I felt was anger. Boiling rage and I had no outlet, no one to talk to or rather no one who could contain it.

It was weird, it was unlike me. For the first time in forever, I wasn’t afraid of expressing myself but rather that no one would understand it.

I try so hard to be there for others, to make them feel less alone but right now I feel loneliness insurmountable.

I’m holding up a lot of people, I’m the one keeping them together and I really feel honoured that they trust me with their life truths but whenever it’s my turn for someone to do the bare minimum, even something as simple as holding my hand, they are going through it themselves and they need me.

A few times I’ve been told to be selfish but even that has rules, I need to be selfish in a way they can understand.

Sometimes I just want to shut down, switch off and disappear but I can’t.

I can’t just leave social media, I can’t just stop writing, I can’t just drop everything and hide in my shell. It’s clear that despite people not speaking to you every day, they use social media as a way to measure your well being.

If you post a lot, it means you’re doing great. You post yourself out and about, it means financially you’re doing great. You post a happy love song you’re in a relationship or your relationship is doing great. People’s views of one another is based on assumptions.

We no longer experience one another but use each other for entertainment. This has gone beyond living through someone.

Someone once told me maybe the problem is does lay with the people I have in my life; maybe I don’t give them a chance to be there for me or that I expect too much from them. I wish that were the truth, it would be easier to put the blame on me, then I’d be sure someone will actually take accountability for me needing someone and them not being there.

I’m kind of like a filling station. Everyone takes but doesn’t have the capability to give back.

I think I’m reaching a point of fatigue I never knew I could experience. I’m hurting, I’m pain and I’m tired but I don’t want nor do I need someone to try and fix me.

This isn’t a call for help, nor a cry for someone to save me. These are just my inner thoughts on paper… and that’s it.