It has been an uphill battle a lonely and violent inner battle. There are many casualties once friended, once trusted, once hopeful, once smiling. Now? Betrayed, cowering, defeated, and trembling in the darkness. I am tired of pretending for the sake of others. Who are these others? Almost all those who have been a part of my life; these are people who have never had so much of a days anxiety over more than that of what to make for dinner, or which fabric softener to use.

I'm hurting and tired. There is pain in my eyes from hours of crying. There is pain in my body from running on empty and still not dying. I'm trapped in my own decaying skin.  I'm tired of restless nights that turn into late mornings. They tell us to tell our stories, "they" the talk show hosts, therapist, the doctors or our supposed friends."They" are not honest with us about the repercussions of sharing our struggles. When we share our truths, the  TRUTH is that no one wants to hear it. No one wants to know that there is a less sunny side to the street and that it's more likely for every cloud to have a gray lining than silver.

I'm not sorry anymore. I am not sorry that I am here, it is just unfortunate that I cannot get out of "here" because I struggle alone. It is hard to struggle to be a person that we may not have ever really been. There are things, "facts of life" or "facts of MY life" that I cannot escape. As of late I hear that, "you haven't had it easy" or "you've really been through a lot". I don't make excuses for myself, I can only speak the truth; of things that have been happening and what I am going through. So many times the truth is ugly. I hold myself and rock but, I don't say that "it will be alright", I close my eyes and tremble and pray that I will pass tired of this fight.

You might tell me that there are places and avenues of hope, people that "really care" and people that really know...I have been to these places and I have told my story there, critics sit and wait behind clipboards and for just an hour they SEEM to care. Maybe I have reached out in the wrong directions or my expectations are too high? I have gone from a few restless nights to wishing I would die.

There was a time when I saw in color not just black and white. I am so tired, I want to hope for things that wont happen again and smile through the day. It would feel good to pretend that there are no harsh realities or not feel any pain. I don't want to be alone or push people away.  I wish someone, just ONE would understand what I've been going through.  When I feel something, it just happens to be what I feel. In some file somewhere maybe these words translate into something profound, to me they are just me trying the best that I can to explain how helpless I feel.