The Sadness of Not Being Sad.

After a great deal of pain, both physically and mentally, I find that life is, more often than not, a joke. 

I mean it has to be at this point. 

I've been through enough to say “that's too much”, and I don't have the support structure I thought I had. A stiff breeze blew it down. 

It's been seven months since I left her. She tore me to pieces. She broke my heart and made me despise love. 

To be completely honest… I survived her, I didn't break up with her. 

It was narcissistic abuse daily - she couldn't say sorry, silent treatment, isolating me from friends, taking things out of context to make me look like a horrible person. 

You feel like a shell. Your body works enough to keep going, and to stop another fight that was most certainly, of course it has to be, my fault. 

To add, my friends ditched, my mother is two hands full… and I feel like I'm truly in this on my own. 

So when I had a good time this morning…I felt off. 

I'm too used to being down…maybe it's a habit now. 

I felt better today for no reason at all. I wasn't going out, I wasn't surprised with company or a gift…I just felt good.

And it's…it's anxiety inducing now. 

When I wake up I'm usually depressed. I can't stand going about the same routine, wearing the same weight all on my own yet again. 

By the way, I'm not one of the people who endlessly complains about a problem and never does anything about it. 

Since the breakup I get out more. 

I reconnected with old friends. 

I eat better. 

I'm signed up for therapy. 

I think my blues through. 

But day after day I find myself in the same pit. 

Things usually don't get better…And I've never been down for this long. 

So I get upset at the idea of good. I had a good morning, but as I was enjoying it, all I could think was “this is gonna fall off”. 

I was waiting for the thought, the thing my mum said, whatever, to make the facade fall. …And it did. 

Negative thoughts cling to me. Sometimes the same ones. I talk them through, I breathe calmly, but when you try to get better they never tell you that it's all on you.

You are the solution - a faulty screw now being told it has to hold up a bridge.  

You're hounded by gorilla sized thoughts. You know them by their first and last name, and you know how to deal with them…but then you have to live with them. 

You have to go to work with them. 

You have to take care of kids with them. 

You have to keep eating with them hanging on to your mind. 

They get quieter, but they get mixed in with your mind, your smile, your walk, your cleanliness…, and can't seem to be separated. 

You carry a tumor that's not deadly, but it can't be removed. 

And when you do have a good day, you get ready for disappointment. 

Maybe…maybe it's me. 

Maybe it's the world. 

Things seem more miserable now. 

I'd feel down in this world. 

I'm poor, I make minimum wage, and things usually aren't hopeful for me. But this…this can't be it! 

I didn't ask for any of this…so why do I…why do I miss the misery?

I don't long for sadness but I know myself when I'm sad. 

When I'm down… I know everything. Who my friends really are, where I stand with people I love. I'm not surprised or shocked. 

There's comfort in being sad. It's painful but relieving, like peeling off a scab. 

I truly want to be better, but life keeps throwing things at me, and when I add that weight onto my back, having learned how to manage it, life drops a truck on my spine! 

Maybe the best thing for me is to keep busy, and hope my misery will smooth out like a pebble. But every night…when I'm sitting in bed….I know myself and I feel like I'm laying down. Sad but still. 

I…I enjoy life. 

I try to be better. 

But I wish this sadness didn't feel so stable.