I am also just done. I'm tired. I've attempted in the past and failed because of being saved and then forced into treatments that I realize are just delaying peace I've been searching for my entire life.
I used to think that there was nobility in the mountain of shit and trauma I've had to endure from a young age, like I was somehow taking pain away from someone else by existing to be a punching bag in their place. As I've gotten older, I've realized there's nothing special about that and I've just been dealt a shitty hand. Everything is okay. I've come to accept the mountain of shit as just the reality of my existence. I can live with that.
An unfortunate side effect, though, is the apparent competence I've built around myself that acts as a barrier to the outside and protection, but also as a prison. No one seems to see or understand that anything is wrong with me because outwardly, everything is pretty good. I don't talk about the trauma, and when I do, I brush it off. I have money, a good relationship, a good life on paper. I can't escape the weight on my shoulders, the pain I endure for others, or the skin prison I've painstakingly built for myself.
I shouldn't have to feel that. I'm tired. I want to rest.
I used to think that there was nobility in the mountain of shit and trauma I've had to endure from a young age, like I was somehow taking pain away from someone else by existing to be a punching bag in their place. As I've gotten older, I've realized there's nothing special about that and I've just been dealt a shitty hand. Everything is okay. I've come to accept the mountain of shit as just the reality of my existence. I can live with that.
An unfortunate side effect, though, is the apparent competence I've built around myself that acts as a barrier to the outside and protection, but also as a prison. No one seems to see or understand that anything is wrong with me because outwardly, everything is pretty good. I don't talk about the trauma, and when I do, I brush it off. I have money, a good relationship, a good life on paper. I can't escape the weight on my shoulders, the pain I endure for others, or the skin prison I've painstakingly built for myself.
I shouldn't have to feel that. I'm tired. I want to rest.
