The Marrero Chronicles

11:25:20

I don't know how to handle this ache in my chest. It comes in waves now, making it hard for me to breathe again. I assume I've been trying too hard to push things to work in certain aspects of my life. There's a big hole where certain people should be, and the more I attempt to ignore the size of it the more I feel it swallow me. How am I supposed to write when my anxiety has caged my mind apart from me? I look for the words I cannot speak and they are camouflaging themselves. Why must they hide from me? I'm on a constant search for them. The unbearable yearning to be set free from my mind; it always haunts me. I feel as though I will always be caged. Stuck.

Free me. Please, I beg. I want to know success and happiness. I want to know that my depression won't always try to control me. That I can live a stable life. I don't know how to write anymore without feeling pain spread through my body and manifest in slippery sneaky tears. Stop hurting me please....I can no longer cry and know why. I'm screaming in my mind, and these migraines are caused by my tortured soul banging on the doors of my subconscious, begging to be freed. I'm feeling so overwhelmed and I don't even know how to take a step back. I don't know how to fix it. Perhaps my life is bound to be painful and full of awful trauma. How am I supposed to know?

It's too hard. Being strong for everyone else but myself. I'm alive to spare my family's hearts the pain of me being gone, and I struggle with breathing every day. Some days like this one, I want to give up. I cry because my chest is moving, because my heart is beating. I hate my life, and I knows it's selfish and I'm very sorry, but out of the things "that are supposed to make life worth living" it's still hard to get past the pain and see the brighter side. A lot of my life has been sheltered from everybody. I opened up to a relative about some of the things I experienced in my own home growing up when no one was around or dared to listen to me over somebody else. She's the only one that knows now besides me. My best friend hasn't even heard some of that shit. So many things are hidden, locked inside my mind and I can't vent about it all because it would take a lifetime of pain and tears. I don't want to go into another suicidal relapse. I want to want to be alive. I want to enjoy being strong. I'm trying. To stay strong. To keep fighting. I'm holding on with my fists clenched, my knuckles white from holding on to a rope that's been on the verge of snapping. I cling desperately even as it tries to break on me. I don't know when it will finally snap, but I feel as though it's inevitable.

I'm sick of the pain. I want it to be over. Why won't it cease? I have plenty to be happy about. Let me be happy, please.

Please?

Please!

I'm begging and you're not answering! I feel so in the dark with myself. I'm being suffocated by this darkness , choking on my own tears. On my own breath. I feel the walls of insanity closing in on me as I try to force myself awake from this nightmare. You've stripped me bare and exposed me to the world, and now everyone knows and sees that I am broken. I want to wake up. Please let it be just a dream.

I yearn for my life to bask in the sunlight of positivity. Tell me I didn't experience all of the terrible things I did, that I've been in a coma trapped in my subconscious. Tell me that people know I'm in pain, that they're reaching out to me. Tell me that I'm not alone. Hold my hand even as I descend into darkness. Even if it isn't real. Show me that someone is listening. Really listening. That my pain hasn't been for nothing. That something will change. That things will get better. Tell me I don't have to succumb to this pain. This unbearable insufferable pain. I don't know how to speak. I don't know how to breathe.

I'm losing myself and I want to be free! Eventually I'll be forced to stop fighting. I can't do it forever, I'm too exhausted. I've been holding on too long. I have blisters on my hands and there's blood running down my forearms. It's slowly gliding down my skin, enveloping me. I'm losing too much blood and readjusting my hands to hold on for just a second longer is causing the blood to make my hands slip.

Please don't let me fall.
Don't let me die.
Don't let me stop.
Don't let me give up.
Don't let me.

I want to survive. I just don't know how anymore but please teach me. Guide me. Someone, anyone. I don't have to know you. I don't have to, but eventually my body will no longer cooperate with my desires and determination to stay alive and I'm worried I'll lose.

I'm reaching out...to anyone. To no one. To my mind. To depression. Let me live.

I. Want. To. Live.