Breathing? A little Venting…

Today was a bad day? Why? Because I do not easily accept failure in my life… I cannot handle detours easily. And it hurts.

I am going to be frank, I dont think I have been completely honest with you. I have hidden my true face under a mask of love sickness and hope. Iv told myself it is going to be ok, and that average is good when underneath the makeup, there is a rough skinned face…deteriorating slowly.

My life moves in fast forward. I act accordingly to how I want to see my future…sometimes a lot further then is really intended. I constantly experience things in my life that I want to be proud to tell my children one day, let them feel the same pain and anguish I had growing up and see a remarkable turn around…I want to have control of at least what I one day tell my children.

But it seems lately I have not been clear cut and forward…wishwashy is what Iv been told it is.

Iv gotten myself stuck in this tense sensation thinking all I must live for is to serve my parents and make them proud of who they have raised. I have been in a constant battle to gain this acceptance… me against the world, and in the process I have forgotten how to breath.

Today, I faced my first job rejection. In fact, I did not even get the chance to interview. All had been well until this moment. I had already volunteered for the hospital, applied for jobs in several different businesses, called and made appointments, gotten passing results and still brought that ounce of laughter into the family when needed. I was going somewhere for the first time since I moved here, and I felt almost…myself again.

I had applied for this job about a month ago and received confirmation saying I was booked for this interview. I prepped myself, studied and reviewed the company like it was the mock exams of my life. And like that, in one sentence “oh, im sorry. This position has already been taken. We were supposed to notify you” …. gone.

What disappointments me the most about this, is that I didnt have the chance to prove to them I was so much more worth then what they thought. I was able to conquer their work. And, I did not have the chance to prove to my parents and feel my own self worth.

Why I feel this way?

Because my parents have worked too damn hard for me to waste my time basking in their success and saying “all is well”. They do not deserve to be working jobs i very much could work at the age they are.

It broke my heart having to see my father, at 60 picking up a “now hiring” sheet at a Subway on our way home.

They never intend their kids to see their pain… their stress…. but I take it all in, I absorb the tension like as if if I was able to drain it out of the rest of the room and thus bring some peace to the others involved.

I feed off of peoples happiness, craving moments where there is genuine connection and content in the atmosphere. But none exists right now… and I find myself silently sobbing…. where no one can see me. How I like it best….alone.

My mom tells me that writing is a therapy for me. This is true… yet even what I connect with the most, she cannot feel the same emotions I do through my words.

My sister says that she needs someone to let her frustration out on, and I seem to be her punching bag.

There isint one thing I can do that makes her happy… for me…. for her… and that is all I want, yet I am frightened to tell her that…frightened because I do not understand what I have done wrong half the time, and how to make the wound heal.

I have permanently damaged her mind with me… and often feel I was never meant to be raised in this family. Often think I have not

put in enough effort in a family I love so much, but cannot stand me. Thinks I am stupid, not right in the mind…trash. Im not sure if I will ever feel the love I once remember.

I am badly hurt right now. Even if i plastered the word HELP on my forehead, I dont think anyone would see it…or at least care about it. “Its just another one of her fits”. “when will she ever be mature enough”. I want to be enough….even just for me, I want to tell myself it will be ok… and actually believe it.

I have come to realize, that I hate feeling

sorry for myself…I want to do something about it…but im so stuck in this world, which fake people exist, and there is no where you can turn for support without having tried everything first.

I used to be sacred of the dark…. now Im scared of failure. To be who I want to be…and how I want the world to see me. Im scared of defeat and loss.

I still pray. But I ask why I was given everything I was given. What made me deserve this? Is there a way to take it back?

I love who I can be… but I hate who I am.

I want everything to slow down and speed up all at the same time. I wish I was older…but I also wanna live whilst Im young.

its a haze, and maybe thats normal…but maybe Im not sure I like that.

Yes…. this is really the only place where it is all about me…and all about I! And I cannot tolerate judgement to that.

I know my intentions even when the rest of the world cant understand it. Maybe I am crazy….but maybe no one believes me.

The greatest scientists and explorers were crazy…or at least everyone else thought they were when they themselves were completely sane…they just had a higher power of thinking.

I want a year away, from the mess of my home and learn slowly… how to breath.



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