I am not okay. I have reached my breaking point.
I make it through one day of hell but never have the chance to celebrate because the next day is equally as bad.
I have never been under this amount of stress before. My anxiety has never reached such a high. I have been hurt a million times before but this year has taken pain to an entirely new level.
I wish I could fast forward until everything made sense again. I want to skip past this part of my life because I trust that things will be okay in the future — they just are not okay right now. Not okay at all.
Up until this point, I have pretended to be fine. I would hint at what was bothering me, but make jokes about it. I would give a little bit of detail, but not the whole story.
But I can’t hide my feelings anymore. People are starting to wonder what’s been going on with me. Why do I take so long to answer texts? What have I been doing with my time? Why haven’t I seemed like myself lately?
I cannot keep pretending everything is fine, but I feel like I have no other choice. Unfortunately, I can’t put my world on hold because I am going through a mental breakdown.
I can’t take a week off and stop working because I want to make something of myself. Because my career means the world to me. I can’t oversleep and isolate myself because my friends will wonder where I went. Because I don’t want to ruin my relationship with them.
I am not okay, but I am struggling to find a solution to my problems. I’m tryingto take action. I’m trying to make a change. I’m trying my hardest to extract myself from this hellhole. It just hasn’t been working.
I am not okay and this time, I have actually admitted it. I have started going to therapy. I have started telling my horror stories to friends. And you know what? It doesn’t make a damn difference. I might receive a few kind words from friends. I might receive their love and support. I might feel a little less alone.
But that doesn’t change my situation. I am stuck. Nothing is changing.
I am not okay and even though people will feel sorry for me at first, it won’t be long until they get sick of hearing about how I’m not okay.
They don’t want to hear about my problems because they want to talk about their own. They don’t want me to be a downer. They want me to go back to being the fun friend. They want me to pretend. They want me to just get over it already.
I am not okay, but I am proud of myself for staying strong for so long. I only cry every once in a while, even though I have a reason to sob nonstop. I only break down on occasion, even though everything sucks. Even though life has never been more difficult. Even though I am internally screaming for an escape.