Might As Well

be alone. Because what is the point?

People swear they love you, but when

you’re down

and out

it’s only you, you can turn to. When

your back is against the wall, and you’re

looking for someone to break

your fall, just to realize they stole the grass

to help soften the blow.

Confused by the love people claim they feel,

when anytime there’s a problem, they can’t heel.

If you, gotta do it all on your own, you might as well

be all alone.

Why stress yourself with the problems of someone else,

when they’re one of the reasons, your life got mess?

How important are they, to suck your joy, and spit on

your hope, with no recourse?

Might as well be alone.

 

I can’t talk to you anymore, it seems to be at, but to a wall not a person, and my time seems lost. I wonder more and more, about time cashed in, never to be seen again. Maybe we were friends, or two sinners making excuses for the things we did. I sought the same thing, and lose it in the hope of what could be, never seeing what is until the thrumming of need becomes a docile pitter patter, lost rhythms into silent beats.

I am One

Not to be cliche, but, as long as I can remember, I’ve struggled with loving myself and wanting to live. To me it’s not a morbid conversation. A big portion of my life I’ve self harmed and struggled with suicidal thoughts. I’ve functioned, and at times, barely functioned as I dealt with an amplitude of mental, physical and emotional attacks.

I’m not generally an unhappy person; at least not now that I have more control over my life. Before the last couple years, I thought depression was something I’d inherited for being, as my stepfather put it “an evil child”. That it was the reaped curse of karma, and that I was just an unhappy person who loved misery. But as I’ve grown, I’ve realized that’s not the case. Yes I have seconds, minutes, moments, days, weeks even where I can’t make life make sense, but overall, I love my life. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I’ve learned to see that the struggles and adversities give me opportunities to grow and be better.

My point is, people who self harm or who struggle with suicidal thoughts are often plagued with shame. I choose to ignore that pressure tonight and share that I’m one of those people. Ignoring the fear, the panic, and the almost debilitating need to ctrl + a + backspace…I’m speaking on it. Because I know too many people who hide these feelings. Who are afraid, like I am, and because of that fear and shame are even more burdened by the struggles they go through…that we go through.

Tonight I just want to encourage those of us triggered and fighting our own minds to keep fighting. That even though no one can see you tearing yourself apart, I know the battle, and I’m here to listen. That the shame won’t always be there if you try little by little to tell it a girl (or boy or gender tag) has no shame. That with time, we can make it, and the current pain will be in the past.

 

At adulthood,

There’s this idea that we just want to hold on to our high school years. Maybe not the act of actually being in school, but the ability to have less responsibility and have as much fun that we want. I know people, now, who still live life like they’re teenagers. They have responsibilities, but their lack of foresight has caused them significant lack in their own lives.

But why?

This question has been on my mind heavily.

What causes us to lose focus? To stay so stagnant that by the time we peak our heads out we are years behind all the people we used to enjoy spending time with; minus the few still “having fun”.

Fear?

But what is more fearful than losing the one you love because you are inadequate? Than no one wanting to be with you because they don’t want to take care of you or fix you.

What is more fearful than people looking at you, knowing you, and saying “you’ll never be more than what you are?”

But…

For those who have had limited to no success or accomplishments in life, maybe the fear IS succeeding. The idea that they could be more, could it paralyze them from growing up?

What happens to these people as they get older? Do you end up homeless? Or the son or daughter in the basement who never gets a place of their own, never holds a good job, and has nothing to claim as their own. Are they free or are do they feel caged?

What slows down their mobility?

As a doer, as someone who has been stagnant, as someone who has been afraid of success and of failing, as someone who has succeeded and failed, I wonder how people get stuck at just one of those phases. What life must be like to not know how to transition?

Can that be taught? Do we have books on that? How do you even begin to help someone who struggles in those areas without being overwhelmingly frustrated by their inadequacies?

I have so many questions.