Seams

All I want is to be happy, but that’s all anyone really wants, isn’t it?

Have you ever had so many feelings running through your mind and soul that you can feel the metaphorical seams of your body start to rip? So much anger, there’s a stitch that popped. Fear, that’s a stitch following suit. Frustration, there’s a stitch. Hopelessness, stitch. Pain, stitch. Irritation, stitch. Thousands of more ways to explain anger and sadness, stitches.

You can start to feel your heart pound. Your stomach rumbles with queasiness. Mind racing with questions. “Why me?” is always first. Then the personal questions that fit your problems.

No matter the situation, to someone else it may seem minuscule, but to you it’s astronomical. Someone out there always has a “well my day was worse” line they will feed you when you just want to vent. To top that, they chalk it up to “oh I was just trying to show you it could be worse, as a way to help.”

We all know it doesn’t help.

We all know that when it hurts, it hurts. Telling me why you hurt worse will never make me feel better. Let me have my moment to crash and burn, then be there when I pick myself up. If you need to vent after that, I’m all ears and will offer my shoulder if need be.

We all live in this “I can’t have feelings about anything because it’s worse for someone else.”

We’re humans. We feel things. Things hurt. Things lift us up. Big or small. We process how we feel about them. Yes. Be grateful for what you have and what you don’t face that others do. Sometimes, though, breathe and take a second to feel. Take a moment to let yourself fall apart if you need to. Give yourself the respect of being allowed to feel something, anything. Take that moment to process what burns your happiness, rips your seams, pops your stitches. Look at your pain with an open mind then see if there’s something you can do to fix it. Just know you can’t repair anything that you refuse to acknowledge is broken.

Why me?

For myself I’m still looking at what is wrong. I know parts of the problems, but I’m afraid the seams are ripping faster than I can sew, mainly because I live in an environment that believes we don’t need to feel. My immediate surroundings tell me that what hurts is irrelevant because it doesn’t hurt them.

It’s okay that I put everything on the line for someone. My heart, soul, money, time, body, emotions. Only to have them take what they want and tell me to ignore the rest. I don’t know how to convey this to them. I start to explain the pain and they shut me down with words of anger. I’m starting to resent probably the only person I have ever loved this much. I can feel the thoughts creeping in on how to leave. How to just pack up and be gone. Part of me feels as though he wouldn’t even care if I became a ghost. The other part of me thinks he would care but just doesn’t know how to show it right. I don’t know where I’m at.

My seams have ripped so close to open that I alone won’t be able to mend them. I don’t know what that means for me. As of now I will just float, lost, day to day, wondering "why me?" while I wash the dishes, or stare at my college paperwork knowing my degree means nothing now.

Don’t lose yourself. Don’t ignore the stitches coming loose, only to find it’s far too late to mend them. Don’t reach the point where you know you took too long to allow yourself to hurt and to heal.

I did.