So Tired

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I used to wonder what it’d be like to see the world from someone else’s eyes. You know, like see what they’re seeing and think what they’re thinking. Maybe then I would understand some things better and handle situations differently. That was a thought anyway. I don’t anymore. I’ve got enough to realise that the human mind isn’t always a nice place. It can be dark and shady. It can also be bright but the darkness win most times.

Now, you might wonder where I’m going with this. I’ll tell you.

These past few months have been very difficult. Not physically anyway. I’m emotionally drained. I think emotionally useless is the perfect phrase. I used to think that the most difficult time of my life was my nineteenth year. Silly me. I was a teenager and living a day at a time. I had the worst kind of depression that year. And I can mask things so much that the people around me won’t notice a thing. That was exactly what I did. I hid it till it went away, or so I thought. I carried it around within me for three years without even identifying it till it almost swallowed me after I turned twenty-two. The rest is history. I might tell you about it sometime.

I’m putting this in words because I want to believe that I’d feel better afterwards. For almost seven months I’ve been on my toes. Not for myself but for someone I care about. She’s been ill. I watch her stagger day by day and I swallow the threatening tears and emotions because she needs me. She needs my strength to go through it. I don’t sleep. I barely keep food down. If you’ve stayed up at night, even for a day, holding the hands of someone you love, then you’d understand. My only moment of escape is when I write my little sad stories or when I read. Even then, I do it seated by her side.

Some time last week, I snapped. Said a few things I shouldn’t have to a person which thankfully, I have apologised for. Last night was the same. It was a bit different because I just sat and listened after I made my feelings known. I was too exhausted to correct certain impressions, and I didn’t want to see her tears. Talking back to the person would have made it flow. So I just let them win. I care more about her well being than whatever they say anyway.

Some days, like today, I wake up with a headache because I didn’t really sleep. Other days, I just sit and stare, thinking about nothing and everything. And other days still, I wake with a growling stomach and a stale mouth or a stale stomach and hungry mouth. Not sure that makes any sense.

Talking about it helps, they say. I hope they are right. No, this isn’t depression. I know exactly what that one is like. This is heavier. It’s like when you’re walking but you’re not. You’re conscious and aware but at the same time can’t feel a thing. This is my life at the moment.

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