The hardest part about being patient is waiting…
I have written and rewritten this post countless of times. Each time hoping that I could better phrase my emotions. Package them in a way that makes sense to not only me, but to everyone that reads this. So I will start by saying that I haven’t slept for the past three days. Every time I close my eyes, it is as though I am being haunted by all my failures. I keep reliving the worst moments of my past. Memories that I hide so far deep in my soul that I had forgotten they existed. Again I’m placed in the same position of powerlessness, of fear and great doubt. I see as it begins to cripple my mind as I can no longer see my future. All my dreams are now cast into darkness, and I’m left to feel as though I will forever be that girl that is second best to everyone and everything.
As the dose increases, and my visits to the psychiatrist become more frequent, I feel myself moving closer to breaking point. I no longer know whether the dreams I have used to anchor me will remain relevant for much longer. It is as though the foundation I for so long believed to be made from stone, is nothing but sand. My world is beginning to unravel at a speed that I find hard to control, and nothing helps. I no longer cry, and I always find myself telling those around me half truths of how I really am. A smile seems harder to master, as I continuously feel defeated. I am confronted with the fact that maybe I’m just not good enough, maybe I just don’t cut it.
Today I find it hard to be grateful. I cant find the strength to run away from my sorrow, as it is all being used to sustain my will to live. Today I’m not a blogger, I’m simply broken. Today I’m depressed:(