Confession: There is something inside me that makes me feel... Not myself.
So I'm here again.
Up until ungodly hours of the night when I have an 8:00 class tomorrow morning.
Please don't get me started on how I can sleep through Theology and still pass because it's just that easy.
I'm up because I feel like something's wrong.
No, not like I'm sick or something of the sort.
I feel tired. But I can't sleep.
I'm hungry, but I can't bring myself to eat.
I want to write something. But I can't bring myself to. I don't have the energy.
It's not the first time this has happened either. It can be for days, weeks, even months at a time.
It feels like something is weighing me down and I can't do anything about it. And trust me, I've tried enough times to talk to my mom about it. She doesn't understand.
No one I tell understands.
" But you were fine just yesterday!" Says my mother.
"You're just stressed" says my twin brother.
"Stop being a drama queen" says my sister.
" you're probably just coming down with something " says my father.
This has been happening since I was 13.
I self harmed when I was 13, and that was the only time they paid attention to what I was feeling. And even then it was only to tell me that what I was feeling wasn't warranted.
that so many others had it worse than I did.
I understand that. I do. Really.
But it's not that I'm feeling ungrateful for what I have. Nor is it that I don't take notice of my privilege. I don't live in a place where blacks are the minority. I am not poor. I have both my parents, and they love me.
I understand that. I am grateful for that.
What I don't understand is that, despite all that, I still have a heaviness in me. It makes me break down sometimes. Ask Peyton. He knows. It makes me question myself. It makes me have no drive to do what I want to do. Whether that be schoolwork or hanging out with my friends.
It makes me change my mind at the last minute.
It makes me anxious to talk on the phone to the guy who's bringing my food.
It makes me uncomfortable around people I know I am comfortable with.
And I hate it.
I want to get rid of it.
But I don't know what it is.
Deuces✌🏾,
Chey
YOU ARE READING
Little Infinities
Non-Fiction"No one told me, That love was something to be afraid of. Now look at me; Afraid to get my heart broken After one encounter With the angel-disguised sin. " c.w A collection of poems, dreams, thoughts and short stories.
