I have nothing. I lie here empty and uncertain of why exactly I’m hurting. There’s an uneasiness that settles throughout the spaces that have been worn through my mind. It’s the kind of feeling of being trapped. Of falling and having no way back.
Stillness. Softness. Silence.
A rumble in the distance.
A footstep. And then nothing.
Tense. Terror. Trapped.
I’m all one way or another
I want apart or together
To the extreme either way
I used to get jealous easily.
I had been led to believe I could be easily replaced.
I came to realize, the flaw was not within me –
it was within him.
I’m glad I have been blogging a lot. At this point I would like to go back and speak to my former self. I posted the title as a quote a year ago. Here’s what I would say to myself – first of all, never say never. Second of all, what about your family? Your friends? I was referring to romantic love here as if romantic love is the only love that matters. It isn’t. Be grateful for any and all types of love that come your way. According to the ancient Greeks, there were many, many types of love.
The love I was referring to in the title was Eros love, which is similar to how we view modern love from the media (TV shows, movies, etc). There’s so much more than this. There’s Philia love, which is friendship. Storge is a type of philia love that is towards family members. Then there’s Agape, which is a love you have for strangers – a love for mankind and nature.
I’ve read up to 8 different types of love. We get so caught up in Eros love that we forget about all the other types of love. They are all important, and they are all invaluable. Take a moment to remember and remind yourself of all the love there is in the world.
To the girl who loved with all her heart and saw the world in brightest colors
Who would laugh the hardest at her own jokes
And would be moved to tears by a piece of music.
To the girl who welcomed all into her life with open arms
Who approached everything
And everyone with curiosity instead of judgement.
You will meet someone unfathomable to you
Someone who is fearful, insecure, and selfish
And you will love them.
In your mind, love does not harm
Trust can’t be broken
And you could never be abused.
You will be wrong.
I know it’s getting bad because I’m hitting a writers’ block. I don’t even want to write.
I know it’s getting bad because I’m always on edge, and scared of people. I believe they will ostracize me. They will leave me.
If I’m alone by choice, then I can’t be rejected. They can’t leave me if I’m already alone.
But withdrawing and loneliness is like putting a band-aid on a broken bone. It’s not addressing the underlying problem. It is a quick fix that actually doesn’t fix anything at all.
Days go past and I can’t help but feeling like I’m wasting my life away.
Not quite miserable and sobbing, but also not happy either. I just am. In a numb sort of way, not a mindful sort of way.
I’m starting to accept that this is getting too hard.
After next week, I am done with instructing. On top of everything else that’s been happening, I feel like teaching is becoming overwhelming. It was once the one thing I looked forward to. I’ve been teaching and/or tutoring for almost a decade now and it’s a shame to see the passion shrink into nothing.
I dread going to each class. I hate interacting with the students. I want to leave as soon as I can. I feel like I’m not making a difference or helping at all, which makes me a worse instructor, which then consolidates the idea that I am not making a difference or helping at all.
I should have known this was coming. Last year towards the end of the last semester, I began burning out fast. I was having panic attacks in the lab and had to have some of my classes cancelled. I keep telling myself that there’s only ONE MORE WEEK, but the thought of that one week is daunting.
I tell myself I can make it, but there’s a growing voice in my head asking, “can you, though?”
I used to love teaching. It breaks my heart that I feel this way. I always prided myself as being someone who enjoys helping others learn and see how exciting learning can be. Now I feel like I’ve lost that. I’m not really sure what kind of person I am anymore. I don’t know if I can make this one last week.
The past few weeks have been uneventful. I’ve been trying my best to take care of myself, stay off social media, and meditate. I’ve been working out regularly, I’ve taken up knitting as a nice mindfulness practice, I’ve been sticking to playing with music. However, at the end of the day I feel like I’ve done nothing that I enjoy. I feel like I’m wasting my time. Even when I do work or studying, at the end of the day I feel unaccomplished and bogged down.
My mom says I’m burnt out and I need to take care of myself. I’m trying my best.
I am taking the memories that still overwhelm me and folding them, until they are small enough to pack away. I am acknowledging them. I am not banishing them from my mind, but putting them away in a closet in my mind so I can revisit them at a later time.
Or at least I try.
They seep through the doors and infiltrate my mind. They appear in the form of anxiety, fear, and feelings of being constantly unsafe. I try to gather them together, but like sand they fall through my fingers.