I have this burden in my heart that bugs me. No matter how much I try I feel like I have to say it but through an avenue that will not be bothered, exposed, or questioned.
Despite our differences, I open up to my sister. However, opening up to her doesn’t really relieve me of any of my problems. Thinking about it now, I feel more insecure when I do so. Because whenever I open up to her she would tell me things that I’d rather not do.
Whenever she talks about me she would always say that I’m sensitive or say that ‘she’s like that’ which does nothing but feed my mind with questions. I mean, the way she says it makes me feel like such an incompetent person.
I don’t disagree, mind you. Because I know I’m sensitive that’s why I feel this way. I acknowledge that and I try not to be too sensitive when I can because I know I can control that. But there’s always something about the way she talks about me that makes me feel so pitiful. Sometimes I feel so bad that I literally don’t want to live with her in the same house. If you want me to open up to you, thanks. I appreciate that, but if you can’t keep your mouth shut when talking about me, no thank you.
I feel so exhausted. I want to rest. I want to sleep. Everyday just feels so tiring. I feel trapped. Whenever I have people around me I don’t feel like they’re there. I feel like I just don’t exist.
Sometimes I tend to feel like I wish I didn’t exist. It feels like that because I don’t enjoy feeling of being with others and yet I feel like I’m more alone in their company.
It’s easier to write it down now than talk about it personally. I feel like despite how everything has been with me and my sister she is trying to reach out to me. But I don’t think that the way she tries to reach out to me helps. It just feels a lot like digging through a scabbed wound, reopening everything and exposing everything.
My constant rants and writing signals a flow of thoughts that I cannot control. I tried to talk it out to a friend today but I felt that she wasn’t willing to listen so I stopped.
On days when I wake up and feel my chest constrict I try to find ways to ease it off. I try to lean on positive quotes, motivational pep talks from TED and devotions. I surf through the net to see what I can read or watch but often times what I watch or read are just a means to distract myself from reality.
To some home is their escape from tedious work and tiresome people chatter. To me, home doesn’t feel as comforting anymore.
On my way to work right now and I’m riding an uber. Dad’s on a business trip in Cairo so we’re left to fend for ourselves for the time being.
As I’m about to step out of the room I remind my sister to leave early so as to not get into too much traffic. All I get as a response is a snarky “Oo alam ko. Nakaalis na ako nang ganung oras.” (Yes, I know. I’ve left the house at a similar time before.)
I was just trying to give a reminder. If you don’t want me saying anything similar then don’t worry. I won’tbother you anymore. I’ll go alone when I can. I’ll shut my mouth when you’re around. It doesn’t seem to be worth your time anyway.
I’ve been trying to find a way to talk to someone, to maybe get professional help or simply air out my thoughts to a really close friend. But I’m struggling so bad that I cant even open my mouth to speak. I try to reach out to anyone but my words are all jumbled up that I can’t even make sense in my own head.
I’m turning twenty seven in two weeks time but I haven’t even figured out how I’m supposed to live my life. My friends already have their future set out for themselves yet here I am struggling to keep up with every day. Trying to make sense of what my life is actually meant for.
I’ve never been a troublesome kid. I grew up in my own little bubble. Never really going out to explore the world and the possibilities. The good thing though is that I am independent. In a sense, I can survive life without anyone or without needing to be with anyone. Because no one has ever bothered to reach inside that bubble.
Every single night I would lie down on my bed, scroll through my facebook timeline, watch endless youtube videos, maybe write on my journal, and then I’d just end up going to bed. The only interaction I would have other than the normal small talk would be with my sister and yet I can’t even qualify that as a conversation. It isn’t even constant. It would be erratic, in a sense that her mood and my mood contribute a lot to our possible interactions.
I find it hard to speak with people as it is but I find it harder now because I hear them talking in my head when my back is turned. And all that talk just pushes me back further into that bubble. It doesn’t even expand or anything. It just grows tighter and tighter until you feel so constricted and suffocated. It pushes me further into that stupid bubble that I can’t even break out of.
Some people say “You just have to speak out. You need to learn to speak more.” But it isn’t a matter of just speaking out more. It isn’t just about opening your mouth and telling your story. It’s more about finding the right person who will listen. A person who will listen to understand more not just to give an answer to.
On days when I do talk I constantly find myself looking like a complete and utter idiot. Embarrassing situations and all that included.
I want to write more but as I scroll through this post the ideas just become blocked. Word vomit usually happens spontaneously and even if I did want to write more I feel like continuing just so I could finish my thoughts would be a bit fake and unreal. I would rather continue when I feel the wordsflow naturally out of my head and through my fingertips. It would be better that way.