I have words with which to describe beauty. I have words with which to chronicle elation, and words that express pain. I have many words with which to describe frustration, happiness, fatigue, excitement or nervousness.
Why don’t I have words for this?
I’ve gotten better at hiding my feelings lately. If I’m fed up with myself for being in this mood for so long, other people must be fed up with it too. I don’t want anyone to get fed up with me. It’s just this combination of feeling so sick, and having already used up my store of emotional strength and inspiration. There are days when I just don’t want to get out of bed anymore. What’s the point, really? If I know that I’m going to be suffering all day? I’m just a hollow statue of a human, running on empty.
See, I have words to describe that. But it’s not this. I don’t even know what this is. I don’t even make any sense any more. Where are my words? Why are they hiding? They’re in my head, I know they are, I can feel them. I think that maybe they’re going underground because they know that if I express this out loud, I can never take it back again. If I let my soul, my heart, my mind, whatever, figure out the words and write them down, they’ll never forget them. The thing with feelings is that they change, and you forget exactly what they feel like. We remember feelings as words. We allocate this feeling to anger, that one to exhilaration and another to sorrow. The words are what we visit later on, not the feelings themselves. At least most of the time.
Now that I think about it, I understand why I can’t word this. My body is protecting itself, for once. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe, when it passes, I’ll be able to move on and forget that I ever felt as lousy as this. Wouldn’t that be nice?
I just wish it would pass already, because I’m so tired of feeling this way. I feel like a broken record, because I keep writing again and again about being fed up with being sick. I also feel like a broken record because I just feel kind of broken. But what can I do? I can’t will myself into health, I’ve tried that before. I keep up whatever I’m told to do, as much as it sucks. Yet I still feel this way, and it’s still what comes pouring out when I sit down with a crisp white piece of paper and a black pen (hands up all of you that didn’t think about me writing on actual paper before posting).
There have been a few escapes. When I’m with my friends I’m less aware of the pain, and I was with my friends all weekend. When I’m watching TV I’m fairly distracted. When something around me is pretty. And… no, that’s about it. Often it just feels like I’m going to explode.
I’m lost for words again.
Life goes on the same, you bury the pain… heal the song, sing along, but what does it change? Oh this life is s confusing, feels like I am always losing… Words are found too close to the edge, that we don’t dare sing. –Somewhere Else, Travis
P.s. Sorry for being absent for a while. This has clearly been getting in the way. I was thinking of adding another page- any idea what it should be? Let me know in the comments or contact me.