i am tired of not having the words to accurately say how i feel. i am tired of feeling like no one wants to listen, even if deep down i know that at least one person is willing. i am tired of second guessing every single breath i take. i am tired of wondering if that last breath was good enough to be my last.
i am tired of looking at myself in the mirror and not seeing anything worthwhile, not even any potential for the future. i am tired of staying up all night worrying about how i am going to keep up with my life. i am tired of sleeping for 24 hours straight in a feeble attempt to escape it. i am tired of waking up and thinking that it wasn’t enough, and maybe i can stay in bed for even longer next time. i am tired of wondering how much longer it will be before enough sleep means never waking up.
i am tired of feeling like my ribs are being cracked open and my chest cavity is being dug out from the inside every time i inhale. i am tired of feeling hollow when i know i should be full.
i am tired of telling everyone that i am good. that i am feeling better. that i am keeping up with the meds and that the meds are working. that my mood is improving. that i am getting everything under control. that things are looking up. i am tired of inevitably failing whenever i want most to be able to succeed on my own.
i am tired of never accepting the help that is offered to me. i am tired of thinking that needing help means being weak. i am tired of suffering because i listen to strongly to my own bad advice.
i am tired of wanting so badly to trust someone with every secret i’ve never shared with anyone. i am tired of feeling like nothing i think or feel or want or need is valid or right or okay. i am tired of not being able to tell anyone anything as a result.
i am tired of feeling like my life has been spiraling out of control. like i can’t stop it. like i am going to fly off the edge at any moment. i am tired of turning a blind eye to every person who has ever held out a hand to keep me on.
i am tired of letting my body and my mind slowly disintegrate. i am tired of watching the pieces slip through my fingers when i try in a last ditched effort to hold them together.
i am tired of not being able to cry. i am tired of not being able to talk. i am tired of not being able to feel. i am tired of not being able to think.
i am tired of feeling no passion for anything. i am tired of feeling no love or hate or excitement or sorrow. i am tired of feeling nothing but fear for my future. fear that i don’t have a future. fear for what i might do to myself in the midst of a bleak present and an unpromising future.
i am tired of feeling so tired of everything and i just want it to stop.