Out of Order
The feeling of emptiness numbs my body as it lingers through me. I have become a shell of who I once was. I yearn to feel the natural joy I see in others. Am I alone in pain? This pain that’s eating me inside out is making me torture myself. I spend time on my appearance until I am comfortable enough with leaving the apartment. Even though I want to wear baggy clothes that hide me, I begrudgingly dress in a socially acceptable way. Things that used to make me smile only take a toll on my heart, and I’m trying to convince myself that my family and friends won't see me as a burden, even though I feel like one.
I am tired of letting go. I often hold a memorial service for the me that I used to be. That girl who always felt so lucky seems so far away. What does she think of me now? In the moments, after I wake up, I still feel like that girl, but I’m quickly attacked by the memory of what happened and that I cannot change it. The reminder hurts, so I begin my cycle of numbness. I sleep, smoke, and drink until I can’t feel anything else. This routine has become my new normal, though it makes me feel worn out and lifeless. I’m trying to wash the slate clean, but all I have is a dirty towel. When I find myself waiting, I look for the happiness that I used to feel. My knees are wobbly and my hands get clammy as I wait for things to be normal again. I’m reaching out a silent hand to anyone who notices. When I try to scream for help, my brain smacks me down and I think of how much worse it could be, or that it didn’t even happen. My arms remain outstretched, but the feeling of hollowness makes it seem as though those who love me are also the ones pulling the farthest away from me. My chest aches at the idea that someone will wrap me in their arms and tell me that they know how much this has hurt me. I need to feel validated in my pain. How can I find my own peace and comfort if all I want is to lay with someone and weep? I know some of the pain is mine to navigate, but I wish I didn’t have to do it alone.