Do you ever … just … feel sad? Usually, I write this kind of post, and say determinedly that “I don’t know exactly wy”, or that “there are many reasons why” I feel sad, low, or down. That’s just the way I am, I suppose: if you don’t accept that there’s an issue, it doesn’t exist — bullshit, but believable bullshit, if you try hard enough.
Today, though, I do know why I’m sad. Whilst we’re here, I’m using the simplistic, overly-basic word ‘sad’ for no other reason than that by burying it in a longer mix of letters, I merely make the emotion more unclear, and help myself to hide it beneath a facade — some bravado.
I’m sad, because I’m pushing people away. Honestly, I don’t kow why — that’s the truth –, but I can’t lie and say that I don’t know how; I know perfectly well how I’m doing it, but not why.
Do you ever just feel isolated, like the close-knit circle around you is rapidly crumbling, exposing you to the ocean of fears and unknowns that you worked so desperately to skim the surface of, and avoid drowning in? Do you ever feel like all your sources of energy — all the people who kept you afloat, who kept you positive and looking up and ahead, rather than at your feet — have, all of a sudden, disappeared, but through no one else’s fault but your own? I don’t know how to capture it in a word, or a sentence, or a novel, for that matter. You can’t capture feelings in that way — it’s the shortcoming of most romantic fiction books, as I think everyone knows.
I’m lonely, but far from alone: quite the opposite, in reality. I have some amazing people around me, most of whom I could text right now, and receive a reply full of support, positivity and love. But you can only get that support if you reach for it — put yourself out there to absorb — and equally importantly share — that positivity, and allow it to take hold of you, and help you go forward. If you can’t get your mind into a state where you can handle other people, then what can you do? If you don’t want to interact with other people, because mentally, you feel incapable, you will (as I have done) latch onto the tiniest reason to avoid talking to individuals. You will allow your mind to bring up minor conflicts of interest that are present in all friendships,– usually from years previously –, and allow the associated emotions of simple sadness to build a figurative barrier between you and that friend.
Whenever I receive a text these days — whoever it be from –, my response is no longer one of even the faintest enthusiasm; instead, it is that of … almost annoyance? I’m almost annoyed that someone wants to invade my bubble, that they feel it appropriate or fair to include me in a world that I just don’t belong in. I’m not good enough for that world: I’m good enough to reside with my thoughts, and to hide away until I’m forgotten by those who do belong, who can smile with genuine happiness, rather than the desire to shrink away when life is too overwhelming — as it almost always is.
And I hate myself for it. i’m lucky — lucky for so many reasons, the biggest and yet most taken-for-granted one being that I’m alive, and live in safety and ‘comfort’. Why am I so reclusive, and consequently ungrateful, when I live, in comparison to others, such an amazing life? Why can’t I cherish the fantastic friends I have, who I care for and who care for me, and allow them to help, rather than pulling away from them because I don’t feel able to cope?
I doubt this makes a lot of sense — as I said, emotions can’t be fully captured with words, however many you choose to use; I tried to use that excuse to avoid writing this post at all. Just know that in my heart, you are all great, and my ability to write this post is thanks to your consistent understanding and support, and my feelings of attachment and love towards you all. I love you.