My Thoughts, Hopes and Dreams

Inside my head

I've come to the conclusion that I'm incapable of being happy for a substantial amount of time. Mostly I'm okay with this. The immense tightness that fills the empty void of my chest and squeezes against my heart almost becomes bearable at times and I think that maybe I can live with it. But then something happens; often small but big enough to make a difference. And for a moment, for just a second, happiness creeps back in followed by its lingering friend hope. For just a second things look up. Like it could get better. That the universe is finally done torturing my soul and has decided to reward me for my bravery with a gift presented in the shape of all my wants and supposed needs. But it's not. The universe is just playing more games; dangling a carrot in front of my nose. And just as quickly as the happiness came, it's snatched back away just before I can grab onto it. Like my finger tips just graze over it but I'm just too far away to get a proper grip. So my vessel made of flesh and bones and blood crashes. It sinks back into the void of tightness. But this time it's worse. I've gotten a taste for happiness. I've seen everything I've ever wanted look me in the eye and say I might choose you and then walk away. This time the tightness in my chest isn't bearable. It's like it normally is but on steroids. See once you become accustomed to the emptiness, every other feeling is enhanced. Some days it feels like someone has come and fiddle with the dials of my brain. They've unwired something that makes it easier to breathe and they've knocked the emotions dial from normal to 1000. Maybe it's the long fingers of loneliness tightening his hold on me. After all he needs to make sure I can't escape. Even loneliness himself needs a friend. 

Sometimes I sit and rake through my memories to try and think of something, anything I've done to deserve this. I have some hunches but isn't god meant to forgive your sins. People have sinned far worse than I and appear to be perfectly fine finding their happiness. As my mind wanders down the path of others I quickly find myself envying them. And by them I mean my friends. I look around and they are all happy. They've found their happiness in a person or a place or themselves. I want to be happy for them I honestly do. But I can't. I don't know what tears me about more inside. The desire to have the happiness they possess or the guilt of not meaning it when I say I'm happy for you. I'm not one to complain about my lot in life often. There's always someone who is in a worse situation. Even as I write this I feel guilty. I have enough to survive. I have a house. Food. Clean water. A family that says they love me. I have an education. And yet my heart is still craving more and I'm still finding myself believing that this is not fair. I feel as though my request is not a lot to ask for. Obviously it is proving to be a challenge to produce. 

Although I am young I feel my body tiring. My mind is tired. My heart is tried. My soul is tired. Everyday I carry around this weight. It burdens me and pokes at the edges of my thoughts constantly. I've been doing so for so long. The constant charade was okay at the beginning but I can't keep up anymore. I'm exhausted. I sleep all day and it's still not enough. I wake up and groan because my bed is the only place where I can lie and be in some form of peace. Because when I finally sleep the weight is lifted be it just for a moment. When I sleep I no longer need to pretend. I don't need to fake a smile. I don't need to pretend to laugh at people's jokes. I don't need to say that I'm okay when really I'm struggling to hold all the shards of what I once was together. I don't need to see you being happy without me. And I don't have to pretend that I'm happy for you. It hurts. It hurts in ways indescribable to anyone who has never experienced it. Feeling your heart break is a different pain. It makes your stomach sink because suddenly all the butterflies have turned to stone and died. You can't control your eyes or what flows from them. You can't do anything. Everything becomes to much. What's the point of putting more effort in when clearly the first time wasn't enough. I always anticipate the ending but it's always nearer than what I think. I believe that's what breaks me the most. I spend so much time fearing the ending but by the time I've accepted it will happen it's too late. I've missed out on enjoying the good moments because I was too worried about what will happen when it's gone. I've missed out on so many things because this cloud of fear never wants to leave. My heart is heavy and my soul is tired. I'm too tired to continue. I'm too tired of not being enough or being too much.