Getting it off my chest 

There are only so many ways to explain how I’ve been feeling lately. I’m hurting. Mentally and emotionally drained. Broken. Damaged. You get the point. 

It’s gotten to the point where I’m so miserable that I’m like a zombie, dealing with disappointment that has seemingly become inevitable with each passing day. I feel  unappreciated, taken for granted, so unimportant that it’s taking a toll on me and those around me. 

I continuously feel let down, adding to the daily disappointment I find myself experiencing. I feel like I’m competing. For attention, for love, for anything at all. And no one should ever, ever feel like that. 

I often feel like my feelings are misunderstood. That they don’t matter, count, or are justifiable. It makes me think I’m wrong for writing this in the first place, but it’s better to voice it to the three people that read this than to keep it to myself. I cry easily. I cry a lot, over just about everything: feeling misunderstood, my favorite team losing, thinking about how my Grandma deserved better. It’s a very often occurrence, and usually induces a painful migraine that only makes the crying worse. 

I feel like I’m unworthy: Of time, of space, of love, of happiness. And it’s so noticeable I’m constantly questioned, then lectured, about how I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I feel like people are changing when they become comfortable with me, often taking advantage of the wall of bitchiness that comes down when I let somebody in. 

I feel like I’m not going to be who I want to be. That I’ll never grow into the person I think I’m capable of being. That I’ll never become the successful person my parents are counting on me being. I’m feeling pretty lost, useless, incapable of success. 

I feel like I can’t trust anyone. And the ones that I can, I feel like a constant nuisance, bothering them with my dilemmas when they probably have plenty of their own. There’s no one to turn to, no where to go. It’s me in my own head, and I can’t escape. 

I feel like everything that’s capable of going wrong, has gone wrong. I feel invaluable, desperate and craving better days. But when will they come? I hope someday soon. 
And if you do happen to read this just know I’m not okay, but I will be. 

2 thoughts on “Getting it off my chest 

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