i have been told that i internalize my stress well. maybe too well. maybe so well, that the people around me may not understand why i am being quiet. or why i need to withdrawal from life and them. i can not help the way that i process things, but i do realize that this fact may be the reason that my stomach usually hurts and my skin breaks out and i need meds to sleep. i don’t pretend that my struggles are any bigger than anyone else’s. i don’t believe that mine is the best way to cope.
i do know that unburdening one’s self is a beautiful way to cleanse. that a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved.
here’s the thing….
that ain’t me kid. i can no more abide the sound of my own voice telling tales of my woes than i can those people that choose to complain in check out lanes. i’m a chin up kind of gal. i’m pollyanna. i’m the chick who can’t help but find a silver lining.
sure my laundry list of things i desire to be different is seemingly endless. of course i have worries. i wish with all that i am that i could shut out the voices in my head that seem to be on a never-ending loop. i obsess (like a mother fucker). i fight the darkness. that is my cross to bear. i struggle to keep balance. i take my tylenol pm, go to bed, get up the next day, and do it all over again.
because even though i can’t see the end of my worrying and depression i am loved.
in my darkest, ugliest me-ness i am never truly alone.
that’s no small thing.
really what else is more important than that?
so i shut my mouth and i disappear and i spend too much time in bed. i can because i have faith that when i come back around i won’t be alone.E