Confessions at 23:00

Hey guys.

I feel like shit.

It's been ages since I did this.

Ages since I felt like I wanted to write something for you.

Something that you can relate to.

Something you can understand. 

Something that stays with you.

But I haven't because I'm a mess.

I'm a bloody mess.

At the end of 2020 I thought I was finally getting better.

I thought that I had finally figured out who I was.

I thought I'd figured out my faith.

I thought I'd figured out what I wanted.

I mean I did.

For a while maybe.

But I got back to life outside quarantine and I was overwhelmed

And it all just got worse.

I haven't written here because I've felt so embarrassed and angry that after writing about change and new beginnings, I was back we're I started.

Unrooted.

Alone.

Tired. 

Faithless.

Afraid.

I spent 2021 defensive. 

Shielded.

I was done.

With me.

With people.

With relationships.

With trying to be better.

I was just done.

I gave up.

I wallowed in self-anger and pity on the inside, and made myself look so unaffected on the outside.

Lies.

I'm a liar.

Don't trust what you see

You should know.

I only ever try to be honest in writing.

I have to be.

We all have truths that must come to light and this is where I choose to show mine.

My depression comes in waves.

Sometimes I can't sleep.

Sometimes I can't read.

Sometimes I can't eat.

Sometimes I want to weep but I just can't.

Sometimes I get so mad and so bitter I want to scream.

Sometimes i just can't..

I don't know if you know what it means to be 18 and unsure

You're recognised as an adult. 

You're given expectations. 

You need to have standards.

But you're just a child. 

You think you're smart and you think you know your way around life. 

You think that because you're a certain age you've finally figured it out.

You're just vulnerable. 

I hate being vulnerable. 

I want to be a solid rock.

Untouchable.

Unknowable.

Unbreakable.

I hate to be fragile but I am.

I feel so deeply; so strongly.

I hate it.

Like you wouldn't even believe.

I just get so tired 

Of all of it.

There are days I wish I could just check out and leave.

Leave life for the people that are good at it.

Let them find their way.

Let them make their names.

Let them carry on

And just leave me be.

I'm rambling.

I don't know what to do.

I want this to be my therapy.

I want to write all this down and I want it to set me free.

But sometimes when I write it's like I've put on shackles. 

I'm not free.

I've just shown myself where I'm at and who I am at the moment and when that turns out to be ugly it breaks me even more.

This is me now.

I am sad

I am lonely

I am tired of feeling like a fuck up

I am frustrated with this battle zone that is life

I am afraid I mean nothing

I am afraid I will mean nothing

I feel small

I feel naked

I feel like I've been ripped apart.

This is me when I am aching.