Thursday, January 12, 2017

01/12/17


Sometimes, I get scared.  The only really close family I have left is my mom.  Grandma is dead.  Papaw is dead.  Dad is dead.  She has plenty of struggles with her health too, and what if something happens to her?  How could I go on living in a world where I would feel so alone?  I know I have a multitude of people who would be watching out for me even if something were to happen to my mom, but would it really matter anymore?  Would anything really matter anymore?

  I take pride in being so strong, but sometimes I feel like people only think I’m strong because I don’t let them see my weak side.  The truth is, I am terrified.  I don’t know if I’ve ever even completely admitted that to myself until right now, but I am scared to death.

 It’s almost like starting out of a video game with five vibrant red hearts indicating the number of lives you have, and watching three of them fade to a dull and stale pink.  You’ve still got those two extra lives, but if the second to last one disappears?  It’s all on you, and suddenly you almost wish for that one to just disappear too.  It’s less frightening to imagine everything fading away, rather than having to deal with the pressure of having that one, single life left.

I want so badly to be productive right now, but my brain will not shut down.  I need to sleep.  I need to have the will to want to go to sleep so that I can function in school, so that I can have a good day, so that I can have the will to keep on winning the war every day against my anxiety.

So, I write.  That way, even if for some reason, I am not able to win the war, I will have at least documented my battle.  I can be honorably discharged, and will only have to live with the battle scar of not being good enough.  In reality though, isn’t that the worst kind of battle scar of all?