depression and anxiety – tired and sick

I wore a mask for over 12 hours today. I’m tired of wearing any mask at any time in my life. I’m tired of not being who I am. I’m tired of being angry and afraid, or sad and lonely. I’m tired of not being able to breathe. I’m tired of holding my breath.

I’m so tired of breathing my own fire back into me. I’m tired of being the dragon and the mother of dragons. I’m tired of holding back the fire I want to burn on everything. Like one giant exhale. I’m holding it in so tightly, I’m afraid I’m breathing it on the wrong people at the wrong moments.

I’m tired of picking up my own piles of tissues when I just released all the energy I had into them. I’m tired of held back by a job that drains me for the security of a paycheck. Tired of looking to things to make me feel better. Tired of trying to escape. Tired of feeling drained, distracted, and disinterested. Disheartened.

downtown orlando library artwork queen

I’m sick of writing stories in my head. Ones I may never share. I’m sick of crying over stories in my mind when people are dying. I have been trying not to dwell on it and focus on it, when perhaps that’s where it should’ve been all along. What we can do for them is live our life to the fullest and constantly pay homage and our respects to them. We can thank them for our blessings.

I’m so sick of crying. The amount of things I’m releasing at once is nearly suffocating. It makes me fearful of the world and others. Like at any unexpected moment, I may break and bring unwanted attention to myself. I do not wish to throw pity parties. I only wish to display more vulnerability.

The gift of life is wasted on the living.” – Douglas Adams. I do not wish to fall under that category. One where I accept negativity and misery as part of my existence. I am meant to find joy, love, abundance, and all good things in life. We all are.

I’m sick of arguing. I’m sick of being at war. With myself, with others, and my environment. I’m just tired. We all need change.

I have feared truly being seen. Truly opening up entirely in fear of judgment of those closest to me.

How silly is that.

To be human - Meg b

I’m tired of being the dragon and the mother of dragons

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