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Everything that has happened to me in this life, has shaped me into the person I am. The situations that we’ve been through can make me change or teach me a lesson. In the midst of it all, I have had to learn to cope, especially when people (kids) are counting on you. When you call yourself coping, which really isn’t coping at all, your feelings about your recent issue or disaster gets stuffed into the closet with the rest of your emotions. You know that the mess is there, but you don’t have the time or energy to take it out and try it on. You just buy another outfit and move along. Deep down inside, you know that one day, all those things you stored away will come crashing down on you. There are so many people you can talk to, but you understand that they all have their own lives.

Seemingly, you make it through your situation, and each subsequent one after that, without going bat-shit-crazy. It is then that you begin to hear it. “You are so strong.” People say that to you so often, you convince yourself that it is true. Despite the feelings that you have, you keep moving. The fact that you are making it has nothing to do with strength, and everything to do with the need to survive. Every day, you look in the mirror and see the scars of battle, then cover them with a mask. The mask allows you to smile, despite the fact that your world is falling down around you and the tunnel I’m walking in knows no end.

The sad part is, we often walk through our darkness alone. I can’t count how many times well-intended people know that you’re going through, then promise to check-in on you or be there if you need them. You have your moment of weakness and decide to call, text or inbox them. In return, you get nothing. Many are slow to respond and some don’t respond at all. The moment passes, and whatever your need was, whatever you were feeling, and whatever you had to say is swallowed up by all the things you have to do. You tell yourself that you are strong and that this is life. C’est la vie.

Well, I’m tired of pretending that I’m okay. I’m done being strong. Right now, I’m weak. I want to give in to the tears and hide in the bathroom to cry. There are nights I cannot sleep and I just pray for relief to come. Most of all, I fight against the times when I think about relieving myself of this life. I need someone to be there for me, the same way I have been there for them so many times. I want to be held. I want to be heard. I want someone to give me a way to escape. I want to scream. I want to curse. I want to punch the wall until blood pours from my hand. Most of all, I want to walk away.

Check on your “strong” friends, they need you.


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Tanasia Thomas1 Comment