It all feels too much. No amount of journaling is helping, at least not for very long. I’m losing it, with no sign of bouncing back anytime soon. The most that I’ve been able to do is try to act normal, act like things don’t affect me the way that they do, act like I’m trying in any capacity to save myself and improve my life. Yeah, it’s all been sighs and false statements along the lines of “I’m trying my best, so I know I’ll be alright”. But I’m not trying my best. I’m not improving. I’m not alright. Nothing is all right, and it doesn’t feel like it will be right at all.
I’m an agnostic. Last night, my last entry in my journal, was a call for divine intervention. I cried, which I cannot usually seem to do. I tried to cry. It’s never more than a couple tears. The last part I wrote in my journal:
[ My state of mind, my state of soul, my charred insides… I surrender to something. I surrender to some deity unknown to me. I require emotional and spiritual assistance. I require a spiritual awakening. I require depth instead of death. I pray for some thread of hope, of love, of power that I can seek within me. Within god or gods. Within the trappings of my broken mind. I seek divinity. I seek food for my soul. I pray that someone, something, some god or goddess can help me. I feel weak. I feel that I can’t do it alone. I require truth. Or faith. Or redemption. Something. Anything. I want to surrender my fears and feel whole again. ]
I don’t normally talk about religion or faith. All I know is that I understand the need for something bigger than yourself. The only other religion that I can bear to connect with enough to look into and learn from is Buddhism. I wouldn’t go so far as wanting to practice it completely, but there seems to be a lot to learn there that could be beneficial to my emotional healing.
I’m just tired of feeling so messed up, like I’m collapsing into myself with every breath I take. I need so badly for me to save myself. Why is it so hard for us to let go and let ourselves live shamelessly? Why is it so damn hard just to pick up our own pieces and continue to rebuild what we’ve broken?
I don’t know why, maybe because we ourselves are broken, and we’re trying to repair ourselves. It’s a difficult task, and one wishes one had never gotten into the situation in the first place.
I understand, friend.
Thanks for being understanding. It gets so hard to put on a brave face so that people don’t have to worry about you, or judge you. But what choice do we have, especially if pretending to be strong will keep us from breaking apart further.