Broken

Im broken. And everyone knows it. I hold back the dam that threatens to overflow everyday. I have to be strong. To say I'm fine, when clearly I'm not. I hate being "that" girl. The girl who holds others back. My whole life was built on pulling people up. On making everyone around me better and to help them find a higher version of themselves. Not anymore. I can feel myself holding my husband back, holding my family back, holding myself back. And I wish I could ask for help. Really, I do. Because I would. I would ask for help, if I knew what they'd do would actually help. I want to be better. I dream of being better or being "whole" again. Of not feeling pain for one whole day. They ask if they can help but I don't know. How could they? I hardly understand myself, how could they? 

No one understands. No one can ever understand. It's not like the flu...  someone can truly KNOW how it feels to have the flu. They can literally empathize with you and UNDERSTAND what your pain or agony is like. 

And that's why I suffer alone. I feel alone, because I am alone. I feel so lonely, even in a crowded room. I miss feeling that connection with my husband that I rarely feel anymore. He never wants to be with me anymore and I don't blame him. I'm my own little storm cloud. He deserves to be happy and right now, he isn't happy with me. I'm not special anymore to him and I'm not shining like I used to. So I don't blame him for gravitating to others and away from me. I see it every day. I see him forget about me more and more. And I'm empty and I feel a deep ache in my heart. My chest contracts and squeezes my heart so hard. I'm alone in my suffering and am alone in my marriage. I'm alone in our bed every night and alone when I cry myself to sleep. But no, No one knows. No one WOULD know... because I'm alone. But it's not their fault. It's mine. Because sometimes it's not just me who is broken... I'm also breaking the people around me.

And then Everyone asks "what it's like." What it's like.... it's like a million tiny needles poking your entire body endlessly. It's like taking a baseball bat to your spine with every step or breathe. It's like feeling broken in half all the time. It's like having a forever headache, that just won't ever give you peace. It's like putting your head in a vice and tightening it. Every blink hurts, let alone talking or laughing or ACTING like you're not in your own personal hell every moment of everyday. And the pain is horrible and sometimes I just don't think I can take one more day the way I'm living..... but the acting is the hardest. 

Acting like you're fine. Acting happy. Acting whole. Acting like I don't feel jealousy and hate sometimes; as I sit back, alone and quiet, watching my own family laugh and have fun and have no worries. I just wish I could be them. I wish I could laugh without pain. I wish I could go have fun, without having to make sure I have my pills or without someone pausing to ask "you're ok to do this right?"

They look at me like I'm broken so yes, I feel very broken. They're only trying to be nice and asking, sincerely, if I can do it. They're only looking out for me. But the only thing I feel when they ask, is resentment. Towards them, yes. But mostly toward myself. Because they're right. I'm fragile. I'm broken. I'm not enough anymore. I'll never be kizzy again. I'm tainted. 

They're only being nice but the minute the ask, I feel like the odd man out. Because I am. I'm the "different" one. I don't belong in their group of happiness, of love, of health, of unlimited possibilities. I don't belong with them; who can laugh and be happy, while I rage in jealousy in the corner. 

Im such a horrible person. I hate myself even more for admitting this. Admitting that I literally HATE and feel horrible feelings towards people who are happy... people who are radiant and shining in their lives. I can honestly say... sometimes I hate them. Because that used to be me. That used to be me; at the center of attention, radiant and happy and shining in every room I walked into. 

Now I'm the party pooper. The one who cant keep up. I'm the weak one. The fragile one. The sick one. 

They used to say hello and the next thing out of their mouths was something about volleyball, about my great successes and my accomplishments. I was strong and accomplished and going somewhere..... now, the first thing they all says is.. "how are you feeling today?","How's your sickness?"... that's my label now I guess; the sick one. 

So yeah, it is hard to go out with family and just sit there. Watching them have fun and enjoy their healthy lives. No one sees the pain behind the mask I've been forced to put up. 

Except when I take those pills... and the pain is gone for a few hours. I'm "her" again. I'm strong and I don't complain and I'm happy. And I'm happy when others are happy too. Im shining again and I'm at the center of attention and I'm nice and pretty and I'm kizzy again.

But when a big event comes up, I find myself looking at those pills in my hand and am tempted. Oh, I'm SO tempted to just take one. To take one so I can be HER for 3 hours. So I can be happy for 3 hours. I plan my happiness. 

I feel the small twinge of pain begin and instantly my mind feels the pull. The attraction. The weight of my backpack... the backpack that holds my relief. My lifeline. But I have to pause and ask myself. Truly and honestly, ask myself.... is this for relief or for my happiness? 

And sometimes those lines are very thin lines. So thin, I can't see them some days. But some days....  I look down at the pills and I can see the piece of my soul that Im selling for those 3 short hours. All I wanted was to be happy. But no, it's not real. It's fake. I'm fake. I'm broken. But again, everyone knows that already. 

Written: June 27, 2017