Words I Never Said

Have you ever had that particular day when nothing seems to be right? Well, mine just happen to be my favourite holiday ever - Christmas. I can't even find comfort in the crook of words, the warmth of writing, or even the satisfaction of piecing words to form a sentence. Its like I've lost it. A few setbacks have dampened my passion for words, a feral hunger to communicate a story. I want to throw my hands in abject surrender and utter the taboo words, "I give up." But this small portly imp inside me is determined to milk my dark moments. I can't say those words.

No one believes in my writing anymore. Not even myself. Then why I can't give it up? Maybe it's because I held on for so long. That even through the "I don't know if your english is just that bad or you didn't see that obvious grammatical mistake" and that one real writing job, and they never got back, I held on.

But it feels like a warzone in me. Messing up my education. My relationships. It seems to be an in thing for me, a season, or a lifetime, maybe. To be in front of a battle, nothing but the clothes on my back, chin up, bravely standing there refusing to dodge. Perhaps I knew it all along. Mayhaps I was asking for it. But I can't back down. Not with my pride on the line. Not when the people who shot the first few arrows were my friends or teachers.

It's stupid. You might say. It's useless, choobs, just give it up. Why fight when you know you are only gonna get hurt? You might ask.

Why do I bother when I have God on my side?

I might have lost all motivation to do well. But motivation can be revved up again. Till then, God be my vindication and my sword.

Delirious

Delirious. Usually associated to joy, laughter, excitement, positive factors in life. But my definition of delirious is in a trance, a dazed state from the chaos and pain outside the shell I call my life.

I'm in a state of delirium. I see things, see through them, I don't really see. Went through the whole day with such heavy thoughts, weighed me down like an iron. But I hide behind the laughter and the smiles. I feel much safer then. Much less vulnerable. Many times my eyes glazed over, I realized then, how good of an actress I've became. I keep thinking to myself. Inside my room, alone, I could break down and cry myself a good time.

That kept me going for awhile. Then I learnt to compartmentalize the pain, the questions. I would deal with it later when I'm alone. Not in front of these people I call friends. Some time in the whole episode, someone came up to me and confided. The one person I was not ready to lose, but I had to let go. She was crying. That was pushing my breaking point, I wanted to cry along with her. I wanted to, so badly.

But I had to suck it up. Always operate from a position of strength. I couldn't cry in front of her. I was her leader, her mentor. What does it make me? In that moment of weakness, I found strength. And I just  stared at her unseeing, nodding empathically.

Snippets of the compartmentalize pain got through the wall I built through the day. But I managed all the same. It's ironic, I wanted, no needed someone to talk to. But funnily enough, I had no one. Or believed it so. Maybe I wanted myself to believe I had no one. It's not because I don't have, but because I just wanted to be alone.

Came home, bracing myself for a floodgates of emotions to hit me like a brickwall and the waterworks to start. It didn't come. It never did. It diminished into something called apathy. I decided to put down all I felt in words. However, whatever I felt, no matter how manipulative I am with words, couldn't explain.

This is my best explanation. Of the words I couldn't say. Relationships. Friendships. Leadership. Bullshit. Cop out bullshit. No fairytale ending for all of them.

Too proud to admit that I need help. Been lashed to this freight train all my life, too stubborn to untie myself. Too stubborn.