I feel a little bit like I’ve been avoiding this place, lately. Not necessarily on purpose – just, I don’t think I’ve wanted to delve into my subconscious during the past couple of months. Things in there are – dark and kind of bad, right now. Something’s struggling to come to the surface with which I’m not entirely sure I’m prepared to deal. I’m lonely and tired and depressed and constantly second-guessing myself. This doesn’t seem unusual, really. It’s just more intense than it has been in a while. I keep wondering why I’m even trying.
This is, of course, the kind of attitude I’ve spent the past few years trying to fight off. I know those doubts are in there; I even have a decent idea who put them in there – and parents, especially mothers, should fucking know better. I’m tired of fighting, of people taking advantage and calling it caring, and I’m absolutely sick of – just – life, at the moment.
I’m fighting it. I’m weary. I can’t see anything good, right now. I think what I need is a little break… unfortunately, only the privileged class get those. I don’t know what to do.
There’s a kind of healing in endings. It slips into the soul, stitching openings that have been lying open for so long I’ve barely noticed them pouring blood even though it’s made me weaker and weaker. The needle stitches them shut for me as I close a chapter of my life that has remained open for far too long, and the sudden sharp pains, new to me, feel like horrible new wounds larger than the last. You can live with certain kinds of pain for so long that you become accustomed to their existence, festering though they are.
The painful chapters in my life that have occurred over the past year or so were never fully put to rest. I kept checking on them, feeling the pain but telling myself that I was strong enough to take it. I didn’t realize what I was doing until a pattern in my life recently jumped out to slap me in the face. It’s time to stop caring so much for the happiness of others that I forget to take care of myself. Especially when so many of these people do these things to themselves. I’m no one’s mother, nor their guardian angels. I have set far too much aside already to take care of people who seem incapable of doing it for themselves. I’m sick and tired of having that responsibility. It’s destroying my soul; it’s eating at my heart. And these people keep proving time and time again that they don’t deserve the time or the love I continually give them, yet I keep doing it, knowing they’re only going to rip me apart again, and seemingly helpless to prevent it. I simply cannot take anymore. I’m done.
Is it difficult to live for yourself, making people prove themselves before you trust them? Because I think that is what I should be doing… though I don’t really know how. Remaining open to life and experiences and people, while still making them prove themselves before trusting them… it seems an impossible combination.