I can never find the right words to tell people what I’m thinking. Telling them I’m tired doesn’t work, but I can’t seem to vocalize that I’m mentally exhausted and sick of existing. Telling them I’m sad doesn’t work either, but I can’t explain that I’m struggling not to kill myself and that the joy in everything in my life is gone and when I wake up to the sun in my eyes, I have to struggle to get myself out of bed because most of me didn’t even want to wake up at all. I can’t tell them I’m numb because what I’m feeling is so much more complex than numb and I don’t have the vocabulary to tell them that I feel like I’m drowning and it terrifies me that I feel nothing as it’s happening, and that my insides want to scream but I can’t even find it in me to shed a tear anymore, that every single aspect of my life feels like it’s shaded in grey because someone sucked out all the colors but I can hardly even remember what colors are because I can no longer remember a time I didn’t feel like this. No, I don’t know how to say that. So I just whisper “I’m fine.”
They say “time heals”, but even now … I know that’s a lie. What people really mean is that eventually you’ll get used to the pain. You’ll forget who you were without it; you’ll forget what you looked like without your scars.
