You really never know how sad a person is. Our exposed selves only account for highlights of our passions and moments in time when we forget how hard getting out of bed was. I understand that it would be weird to share every moment we cry and every thought that chips at our emotional/mental health but how do we find the balance? Is there in fact a balance? A place where we’re both vulnerable enough to expose our sadness and vulnerable enough to accept/expose the moments we feel a little less sad.
I have been thinking a lot about the strength that lies within vulnerability but I think this is the most I have ever struggled with being vulnerable. I’m currently completely terrified of exposure. Isolation is my comfort zone. It has been for as long as I can remember but now, I’m isolating myself from my loved ones. I think maybe their love might magnify the cracks in my soul. The cracks that now house my relentless pain and chaos.
Unworthy. Incapable. Insignificant. Incompetent. Undeserving. Underserving. They ring and form a ring in my head.
(give yourself a little time to work through your thoughts. I will do the same.)
Hey, it’s been a minute!
Woke up today feeling a little low. Lately that has been a norm but there’s something about today – a little extra discomfort and uneasiness. I figured I should share that because someone out there could be experiencing these emotional waves like I am.
Some days, it’s a little more than waves. I face the constant internal battle with self – the awareness that I’m more sad than others vs. my willingness to choose happiness every day. I give myself a pass because not a lot of people can face the trials I have faced (and currently facing) and muster the courage to get up every day, challenging everything inside to get shit done.
Lately, it’s been harder. I think it gets harder by the second. I feel a little less with each passing day, which I know cannot be a good thing because this numbness approaching will not yield healthy results.
It’s been harder to share, talk, express but today, I said there’s something different about today – relief or emotional breakdown – it led pen to paper and I’m here. If you’re here with me, wherever this is, I hope we make it out. I hope we tell tales of these times standing tall with a smile knowing we crawled out, fingernails scraping, bleeding and crying. These battles within and without, I hope we win.
Up, watching you sleep
You’re here, I’m home
I’ve yearned to feel
the warmth of your skin
The sun, rising and
Creeping through the glass
Your skin, golden and brown
A kiss on your forehead and
You hold me closer
You’re here, You’re home
Today, I am 23.
Wow. At 13, I always wanted to be 23. I knew exactly where I’d be and what I would have accomplished. God had other plans. I think he was laughing when I was trying to write my own destiny. We do that a lot, you know? Create expectations and think we can meet them all, specifically and not a second late. Sometimes, we project those expectations on the people around us without understanding they’re human and permitting them to be just that. Human. Just like I’ve fallen short of the expectations my 13-year-old self had, the people around me will fall short of the expectations I have of them sometimes and I’m learning to be ok with that.
In class last week, I learned that people don’t expect much from their friends and their friendships rarely go beyond surface level. I’m not one of those people. I thrive on the depth of my friendships. I have very few friends but, they’re family and they mean a lot to me.
Lately, I’ve been feeling like I’m not doing enough. Not being enough. Not being a good enough friend. I know Maya isn’t mad at me but I should call her more. I should reach out more. The depth of our friendship doesn’t require that but I do. I just feel like there isn’t enough time in the day and my sanity is constantly being tested. At 13, I wasn’t aware of how difficult life could get. I wasn’t aware that I could feel like I’m drowning in challenges.
In my thoughts. In uncertainty. In sadness. In disappointment.
Love gives me shelter though. Baby’s love. He’s my anchor. He keeps me stable in this hurricane of a life.
(I pray peace encompasses the hearts of those that have lost love and stability in the last few weeks)
Nikky. Ijay. Serena. I love my sisters. I’m always willing to go to battle for them. Most times I feel like I’m not doing enough. Our worlds have been turned upside down and I can’t do anything to protect them from it. It hurts. A lot.
I’m 23 today. Not 13. I’m where I should be and that’s ok.
x C. Allison
I have waited
I have prayed
I have searched within the wrong people hoping to find
I have you
I have your love
I have your tender affection
I have your unwavering support
I have a hard time coming to terms with the reality of you
I have everything I’ve always wanted and,
I have a smile I thought I would never find
Because, you, my darling, are everything I’ve always yearned for.
I have consciously taught myself to stop apologizing for my ability to access and understand my emotions. It isn’t over-sensitivity. It is strength that a lot of people wish they have.
Thank you for teaching me unconditional love
Through you, I learned that love is a lot more than how a person is
or how happy they are
or what makes them tick
or what they look like
Love is a feeling of content when souls connect
I’m very content with your soul
I love it unconditionally
I love you unconditionally
For a long time, I was fighting for a seat at the table of a familiar stranger’s life
I crawled, I scratched, I begged, just to be seen
Just to be worthy
I was working overtime to prove myself
Because, they told me,
‘You have to fight for love, darling’
But when the right love walks in the door, you wouldn’t have to fight
Your only responsibility would be to open your arms, embrace it and keep it safe
All my life, love hurt
So, I began to measure love with pain
The more it hurt, the more certain I was it was real
Then you walked in
Calm, free of pain, offering love
I couldn’t understand how that was possible
In the spirit of trying new things, I let you in
I let you teach me what love really was
With every lesson,
I wonder how I lived without it for so long
I’m learning not to apologize for choosing myself
Facing the reality of the growing pains
But enjoying the process