Changing
Most people know what my week has been like up to this point. Safe to say, I'm not sure I remember being this weak. I don't know if I can remember another time in which I felt unable to feel okay. I am functioning; I am surrounded by wonderful friends, I am eating well, I am sleeping well and for the most part I haven't really cried. But I'm not okay.
I'm not sure how it even feels to be okay anymore.
I have this problem I'm dealing with: I dislike who I am right now. I don't have an inch of motivation within my body and I don't feel like anything is changing yet.
Life has always worked a certain way for me. I slide by, doing what I can to simply survive rather than thrive, and I eventually get a chance to run away from the problems that my lack of strength created. This time there is no running. This time my pain has grabbed hold of me so strongly that I can't even breathe without feeling it. I am unable to eat food without swallowing a tiny bit of misery with every bite. All the words that pour out from my lips are heavier than stone.
Tragic stories are told through many types of media. They can be found in cinematic creations, novels, daytime specials with Montel, and dozens of others. Most people enjoy watching them in the various movies that come out. When someone watches one of these - namely, love stories - they are torn away from reality and become elevated into a world that is saturated in perfection. The outcome of these stories can be anything; sad, glorious, uplifting, depressing, or even scary; but no matter what happens, the story concludes and the viewer is left with a sense of closure. When the film cuts off and the reel refuses to represent the finality of the reality that life isn't a movie, they simply come back into their own world and live like none of it ever happened.
I always thought that is what I could do if I ever lost her. I thought the movie would end. I thought the reel would cut off, allowing me to push on to the next one in line.
There is no line right now. There is no me right now. I feel like a shell; a shadow; a mere silhouette on the wall made of tears that is only reflected by the bright fire burning inside of me, scarring and infinite.
I suppose I could use simple, cliche words to explain my emotional state, but they wouldn't be telling the entirety of my truth. It's not that I simply feel ugly - as of right now, I do - I feel more unable to achieve beauty. Does that make sense? It applies to any negative attribution one could pin on someone. I have no sense of progress right now. I have no sense of self-value; I'm missing the essential piece of what makes me work: recognition.
See, it's simple: I don't know how to care about a future that I cannot see happening. My good friend said something once and I considered him insane, "Clay, I don't feel like I have a future. I don't feel like one day, I'll be thirty." Now, the statement itself is fairly normal; it's not like we can all say, "Man, I can't wait til I'm thirty so I can be like *that*" but we do have a general idea that we will exist.
Right now, I can't see past tonight.
I'm not being dramatic. I literally have no foresight when it comes to my future. Imagine you're setting up a series of dominoes. You have about one hundred of them, all different in nature because of their unique design: each one has a numeric value, rather than dots. You set them up in a way that if one of them topple, the others will soon follow. As they fall over, you notice that there is one missing, sitting right off to the side of the rest. Right now, that domino is me. I have no movement based on the movements around me. I am unaffected by my nature that is inherently similar to yours and the person next to you. I am standing, alone, surrounded by others just like me, unwilling to move.
People always say, "Ask for help when you need it." I don't know what any of you can do for me. I don't think anyone can do a thing. But this is my request: just pray for me. You cannot make me better. You cannot make this go away. You cannot make my day brighter. You cannot fix me, and you cannot help weaken the pain. You can simply remind me that I have things to work for. Just help me remember that I do exist, and that existence is worth existing.
I'm not dying. I'm not going to fade away just because I'm going through pain. If anything, I might become stronger. It will just take some time.
Right now I might feel nothing, but soon I will be reformed. To all those concerned, I love you. To all those not, I love you too. To those that have hurt me, I love you. To those I have hurt, I love you.
I'll be changing.
I'm not sure how it even feels to be okay anymore.
I have this problem I'm dealing with: I dislike who I am right now. I don't have an inch of motivation within my body and I don't feel like anything is changing yet.
Life has always worked a certain way for me. I slide by, doing what I can to simply survive rather than thrive, and I eventually get a chance to run away from the problems that my lack of strength created. This time there is no running. This time my pain has grabbed hold of me so strongly that I can't even breathe without feeling it. I am unable to eat food without swallowing a tiny bit of misery with every bite. All the words that pour out from my lips are heavier than stone.
Tragic stories are told through many types of media. They can be found in cinematic creations, novels, daytime specials with Montel, and dozens of others. Most people enjoy watching them in the various movies that come out. When someone watches one of these - namely, love stories - they are torn away from reality and become elevated into a world that is saturated in perfection. The outcome of these stories can be anything; sad, glorious, uplifting, depressing, or even scary; but no matter what happens, the story concludes and the viewer is left with a sense of closure. When the film cuts off and the reel refuses to represent the finality of the reality that life isn't a movie, they simply come back into their own world and live like none of it ever happened.
I always thought that is what I could do if I ever lost her. I thought the movie would end. I thought the reel would cut off, allowing me to push on to the next one in line.
There is no line right now. There is no me right now. I feel like a shell; a shadow; a mere silhouette on the wall made of tears that is only reflected by the bright fire burning inside of me, scarring and infinite.
I suppose I could use simple, cliche words to explain my emotional state, but they wouldn't be telling the entirety of my truth. It's not that I simply feel ugly - as of right now, I do - I feel more unable to achieve beauty. Does that make sense? It applies to any negative attribution one could pin on someone. I have no sense of progress right now. I have no sense of self-value; I'm missing the essential piece of what makes me work: recognition.
See, it's simple: I don't know how to care about a future that I cannot see happening. My good friend said something once and I considered him insane, "Clay, I don't feel like I have a future. I don't feel like one day, I'll be thirty." Now, the statement itself is fairly normal; it's not like we can all say, "Man, I can't wait til I'm thirty so I can be like *that*" but we do have a general idea that we will exist.
Right now, I can't see past tonight.
I'm not being dramatic. I literally have no foresight when it comes to my future. Imagine you're setting up a series of dominoes. You have about one hundred of them, all different in nature because of their unique design: each one has a numeric value, rather than dots. You set them up in a way that if one of them topple, the others will soon follow. As they fall over, you notice that there is one missing, sitting right off to the side of the rest. Right now, that domino is me. I have no movement based on the movements around me. I am unaffected by my nature that is inherently similar to yours and the person next to you. I am standing, alone, surrounded by others just like me, unwilling to move.
People always say, "Ask for help when you need it." I don't know what any of you can do for me. I don't think anyone can do a thing. But this is my request: just pray for me. You cannot make me better. You cannot make this go away. You cannot make my day brighter. You cannot fix me, and you cannot help weaken the pain. You can simply remind me that I have things to work for. Just help me remember that I do exist, and that existence is worth existing.
I'm not dying. I'm not going to fade away just because I'm going through pain. If anything, I might become stronger. It will just take some time.
Right now I might feel nothing, but soon I will be reformed. To all those concerned, I love you. To all those not, I love you too. To those that have hurt me, I love you. To those I have hurt, I love you.
I'll be changing.
posted by Clayton at 9:48 PM
1 Comments:
Aw Clay, of course I will pray for you. It's sad that we have lost touch over the few years since high school. I don't know what may be troubling you, but no one should ever feel the way you are feeling. My prayers will be with you. I'm glad you posted this on your AIM.
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