Everyday I am fighting to stay alive. To keep my head above water so that I don't drown in my own sorrows. The things that keep me up at night that control and console me are the things I ask God peace for. I thought maybe my plans would work just perfectly. That I would go to school, get my degree , have this great job, be debt free and then pursue everything I loved.
Now, I'm in a predicament where it seems that sometimes nothing I do feels real or tangible. I'm just making ends meet to pay the bills that life has handed me. Don't get me wrong I am grateful because the grasp that held me before was almost like death and this is somewhat manageable. But somedays I really just want to breathe.
Everyday I sit and compare myself to others wondering if my life will get any better. In the freight of the night I am scrolling and reasoning with myself saying this could be your life you just do......and the list goes on and on. I drive myself crazy thinking of the endless possibilities of what I could and should be. I see how easy it's been for them and envy their story while only seeing a glimpse of their reality. Nothing is always quite what it seems. Even when I hear their journeys, I am ambushed with loneliness thinking yeah but look at them now. Their journey was hard but look they're happy now. Forgetting that that happiness is fleeting and the Internet has made me think that I want the life that others live. I crave it. They have no worries, they have money and they have pursued their dream. Wanting more but giving less. Watching faith opportunities pass me by. Feeling weak, afraid and ashamed. I am not so powerful. I am clingy. I have attachment issues to my dream with no work to show for it. Pleading and crying asking God to take the pain away and to be free of all the things of yesterday. My soul continues to crave freedom but I am left in a puddle of rocks and sand sinking to rise no more.
As soon as I take a breath, I release the sadness and become more anxious thinking about what I could've been. Holding on tight to the imagery of strength. Smiling while my nights are filled with shatters of fear, death and toil. I am angry and sadness won't go away. I scream, yell and throw my hands up in an adult tantrum just to get a moment of pleasure. Yet, I am released to the rocks and sand again, sinking to rise no more.
I am worthless. I am nothing. I have nothing to give and no life to live. That's what I tell myself at night. I am anxiousness repeating itself over and over. Telling me to be paralyzed and saying I am unwanted; not releasing me to peace. I am stronger than you and I just may take you out.
There is a small whisperer who can see the end of the chapter, telling you to breathe again baby.
BREATHE.
