There’s something about the word pain that continually puts me back in every scenario I’ve ever suffered in. I have been tucked away in the shadows of social media for quite some time now because I’ve been too focused on pain. They say when you’re depressed you’re living in the past huh… well that makes sense. Because when I think about it I haven’t left the house in three months so I can’t possibly be thinking about anything except the past. I dream a lot more now…. hey what can I say my dreams are so much better than reality. I lost my confidence. I lost my career. I lost everything I worked hard for. Feel no pity for me because you see there’s this thing people call it karma. And of course there’s good karma and there’s bad. I myself have been experiencing the riveting karma of all the things I’ve ever done wrong. I just lay here all day and think about all of the things I could’ve done and all the things I should’ve done to prevent me from being in the predicament I’m in now. Pain for me is holding on to things that I couldn’t change as well as the things I could, so you can understand how heavy the load may be? Letting go of the things that are a burden to me has always been the hardest part.
Pain is me. Pain is apart of an illness that I seem to can’t get rid of. Pain is knowing you could have been something so much more had you done a hundred things different. Pain is hearing your mother lie for you and tell people you’re okay when really you haven’t even stepped outside in these past couple of months. Pain is seeing the disappointment in your mother’s eyes every time she comes to ask if you’re okay. Pain is becoming the person you swore to never become. Pain is knowing you could have saved something had you just taken the time to focus on why the hell you decided to do it in the first place. Pain is wanting so badly to be happy now but not being able to shake the fact that you ruined the one thing you wanted most. Pain is pretending that you’re okay when you really haven’t slept in thirty eight hours and counting because your thoughts are keeping your brain awake. Pain is the silent cry you have every fucking day while looking back at the days you were smiling. Pain is knowing that woman no longer exists because everything thats happened since is overpowering her. Pain is ignoring the people you so desperately want to talk to but not knowing what to say anymore. Pain is wishing someone could just hold you tight and tell you everything is going to be okay.
Pain is listening to a song, remembering every damn moment that made you dedicate it to someone. Pain is being jealous of something you screwed up. Pain is still deeply loving someone whom’s heart you tore apart. Pain is writing your suicide notes and not having the guts to follow through and end it. Pain is wanting to be gone because you feel like no one would miss you anyways. Pain is trying to figure out how to end it without feeling anything. Pain is thinking maybe you’ll go missing and because everyone is used to not hearing from you now that they won’t even notice. Pain is not knowing how the hell to get yourself back together.
Pain is me.