I give up

I often find myself wondering. Getting lost when going down paths within my mind and thinking instead of living. In the end I never get anywhere. Honestly I’m running in circles every time, despite trying my best to find a new perspective, a different light. But there’s never any light. Just a suffocating darkness closing in on me until I gasp for breath, snap out of it and break. I’m not a heart healing; I’m a heart barely beating. I try my best to believe that I was meant for something better, something close to living. But how can someone so hurt, so beaten, broken, torn, disturbed, and wrong like me possibly be meant for this world? And in the darkest of moments when I feel myself giving in, I can barely stand from the weight of all my tormenting thoughts. There’s so much that shouldn’t have been that decided to find it’s way into my life anyway. My biggest fear is myself. All my demons that’s pressing down on me, trying to deny me what I’ve been fighting for from day one. I have no words left to explain. Only a sinking feeling of defeat crawling under my skin. I’ve grown tired of bleeding out my frustrations, but it’s all I have to hold onto. Waking up every day trying to convince myself that I still have a chance to make it, but going to bed feeling lost and defeated, has gotten to me. It’s become too much. I stopped making sense so long ago, if I ever did. The heartbreaking thing about growing up is that everything starts to become your own fault. Most people don’t care to ask, to trace back to reason behind the hated behavior. There’s not a single thought given to the fact that I never asked for this, I never wanted to become this. I would say that I can barely recognize myself, but this has been me all along. To be honest I think it’s the fact that I can’t recognize myself as a human being, a person worth anything. I can’t go on feeling like a monster when I’ve never done anything to deserve that label. It’s terrifying when I stop and realize that I don’t feel anything at all. But it’s heartbreaking when I crawl up against a wall, and cry my heart out; trying to understand what went wrong. So overwhelmed with emotions that I grasp for anything to hold onto, while wave after wave try it’s best to drown me. Yet when I come home at the end of the day I sit down, close off from the world and try my best just to feel. Because I’ve spent another day pretending that I am alright, that what I do, who I am, and where I am makes me happy. There’s no truth left in my life. Except those few moments here and there when I can’t hold it in anymore and it all come crashing down, reminding me that I’m still here, and I’m still not ok. I’ve grown used to not living. Because I’ve gotten so good at convincing myself that I am in fact living. I used to have that spark that passion about life, about learning, and discovering, to go and take the world by storm. Now that feeling is long gone, leaving a stabbing pain behind, telling me that I’ve gone off track, that I’ve become lost and for the first time stand alone. I can’t keep on falling apart, and then pick up the pieces only to fall all over again. I’m a mess, with no room to let go. I can’t hold onto reality anymore, I can’t stay. But I have nowhere to go, nowhere to run. I’m stuck within these walls. So as always I’ll close another document on my laptop, feeling like it’s unfinished and don’t capture enough of my hopelessness. I’ll settle for another sleepless night trapped inside my head, going down different roads of misery and self- destruction. Who knows, maybe I’ll crawl up in a ball on my bed and wait until a pale clear blue light starts to show outside my window. Maybe I’ll drown out my thoughts by listening to music. Maybe I’ll go through all the memories all over again until I can’t stand it anymore. Maybe I’ll down the rest of my vodka until I pass out. Maybe I’ll find my way back to my rusty razor blade. Maybe I’ll cry until I can’t breathe. Or maybe I’ll hit myself until my legs start to show bruises. The only thing I know is that when I wake up tomorrow I’ll walk out of my bedroom door smiling and ready to pretend all over again.