I Am F*cking Sad
I Am F*cking Sad
I am fucking sad.
Most of the time I at least attempt to find the silver lining, the laughter in the darkest moments to remind me that even though it hurts right now, this darkness will pass and there is sure to be a light up ahead.
But right now, this just plain fucking hurts.
I know a lantern at the end of this dismal path must exist, but I've crawled in this hole and made a home in fetal position, and it doesn't seem to have any cracks to let the glory shine in.
My ability to hide from the world with this shield: check. This shield’s ability to block out all traces of joy and hope radiating from my future: also check.
This isn't the derealization stuff, where I found shelter in numbness, plugged my ears, and sang LALALALALA in the face of pain. This is the pain. This is the depression I missed when I could feel nothing at all. This is the gut-wrenching sadness I prayed for while I searched the faces of my grief-stricken loved ones, but couldn't have cared less about their feelings in the end. "Feelings" didn't exist for me.
While right now I am suffocating in this hurt, I know deep down I missed it. I've been incapable of feeling these powerful emotions pulsing from my broken heart for years. Too many tragic events have come and gone in my life without so much as a scar or a scratch to prove they really happened.
Not this time.
Somewhere along the way, I must have done something right (this is what I keep telling myself, because right now I don’t want to believe in anything but a box of chocolate and my bed). But if I am feeling all of this, then my work toward accepting my life and being honest with myself may have actually begun to heal me.
One of the hardest things I have ever had to do was begin to wake up my dormant heart after it spent too long hiding and pretending nothing was happening. I'm conquering this mountain with utmost determination because it's absolutely terrifying, which has to be better than feeling nothing at all.
Now, I feel as though I am stepping right up to the peak of that mountain. My toes are inching to the edge of the crumbling cliffs, and I can look down at where I once began. Out there somewhere are all of the obstacles I overcame, every creature that took part along the way, and maybe, an actual foundation has begun to form under me as well.
Although I don't feel ready at all, I can imagine myself looking out over this gorge and passed the surrounding peaks and just...everywhere. There is so much out there, so much left to see, and I've been too busy cowering from anything that might hurt to realize the truth. There is beauty, and magnificence, and scenes so awe-inspiring that of course they have to hurt on the way up, or else we wouldn't know how good they are for our souls that so often lose balance and crumble.
I can feel this, right down to my bones that ache with every ray of sunshine and relish in the gloomy, dreary, damp mornings where my blanket and tissues can fit right in and I don’t have to be sorry.
A friend said to me, “Just let yourself be sad.” Well today, I am trying not to be so damn sorry about it then.
Real life is ever-changing. If nothing in your life gets turned upside down, you're not living the most real life you could. Sometimes the sun is shining, and sometimes you have to wade through mud and puddles of rain before anything beautiful can blossom from it.
I honestly don’t know how in the world I keep going, but I do know why.
I carry on because no matter how much I tell myself I've lost it all, I have a hope. I have a hope that there are better days ahead of me than I have ever known. I've realized feeling out of place my entire life means absolutely nothing, because this one little reality I have lived in is nothing compared to the infinite realities of the world, and the infinite strings of the future I can pinch at and pull on and play with and lunge for, once I've figured out how to find them. But I am passionate if nothing else, so I have hope.
I have to stand up for this one short life I have and admit, as hard as it fucking is, that something's gotta change.
I don't want anything to change. I don't like change because I hold on too deeply to people and temporary realities.
But the only thing I can say with certainty is that I know I am capable of more. More happiness, more strength, more tears that actually mean something, and somehow, even more hope to get me through them.
This is one of those times that instead of writing about beautifully optimistic ideas, I'm writing about drowning in my own obsessive sorrows. I write these words to nurture my heart, but I take a deep breath and hit Publish for you too. I feel so alone right now, but I know it's just a bad day, not a bad life, and maybe these words will help you to know that YOU are never alone for long either.