Saturday, November 28, 2009


Have you ever felt like you were being over dramatic?
Like an effect happened... and your reaction is outside yourself.
I feel that way constantly. Like a little girl who can't get the doll she wanted.
So in the middle of the store she throws a temper tantrum.
She probably didn't even want the doll that much, but she needs to react that way,
because that way, her mom will suffer for not buying her the doll in the first place.

But then there are times... where we really do want the doll. It's all we could think about. And even rolling around the store floor couldn't adequately express how upset we are over not receiving it.

I feel as though I'm sleeping. And any moment I will wake up. I keep looking around expecting someone to shake me. Tell me I've slept in to long.
I feel as though someone has punched a hole in my chest. And everywhere I go I keep searching for something to fill it. But nothing is big enough. I can't get rid of it. I can't breathe.
I feel as though I've hit the ground. Instead of waking up in the middle of the dream right before you make contact with the floor below, no I've actually hit it.
I feel as though I'm someone else. I keep scrambling to find me in there, but I have taken shelter. And I think I'm close to a point where I won't come out like I usually do.

I think we all have our limits. That line, we all feel it. Every day we get pushed closer and closer. I feel as though I've passed my line. And I'm looking back on the other side. And even though it's a one way street I am running past every oncoming car, desperate to get back to the start, so that none of it happened.

I wish I could forget. I wish I was naive and foolish. Oblivious to what selfishness was. Or pain. Or sorrow.
I wish I could remember only the good things, and push away the bad.
I wish I didn't feel sick.
I wish that I was enough.

I feel small.

I feel empty.

I feel broken.

I feel worthless.

I really wanted the doll.

and in the end... I wonder... how many times can human being be reminded that their worthless until it's too much.
How many people will it take reminding you. Not with words, or phrases, or cunningly sharp insults. But with actions. With typical, casual, simple actions covered by excuses, justifications, and pretty little stories with bows and ribbon that tell you... you're worthless. Not enough.

how much of all that... until every last bit of worth is rung out of you.

And you are left... as nothing.