Sometimes, when we are at our weakest point. On the verge of destruction, sinking into the depths of our hopelessness, we just snap. There is a point where tears and tantrums no longer calm the beast inside, it threatens to break free, just beneath the surface. It drags down our morale and pushes us farther into seclusion until we no longer know who we are or why we are.
Lately, I have been feeling this way. Like nothing, I do matters, that even after all my efforts it was for nothing. Nothing changes, nothing gets better, I just sink and sink and sink. Crying doesn’t ease the pain, it adds weight to the burden. Writing doesn’t lend escape, it confirms what you already know. That everything is going down, and you are going along with it.
I don’t want to try anymore, I don’t want to fail anymore. That doesn’t mean I’m giving up this life, it just means that I am going to just get by on as little as I possibly can. It means that nothing will mean anything, my feelings will be numb, just as my mind is now. It means that everyone I love will have to suffer along with me, hell they would be better off leaving me to rot in my own sorrows. I don’t want to cause pain. I do that to myself. No one has to take the plunge with me, that is their own choice.
I will be, but I will not feel.