Tired

 I find it weird –– if not tiring, that I am motivated to write when I feel something. Pain, anger, sadness, confusion, happiness, and all the messy colors and emotions in between.

It gets draining. Sometimes I wonder if it's because I am too sensitive, too emotional, or too dramatic. Yet, those are the same questions that I've tried to dispute over the years. Because being all those things make me more in touch with myself. Those feelings validate my experiences and I'd like to think it makes me more human –– and less of a pair of legs and eyes that is caught up in the addiction to the internet.

But there is so much that I, and anyone else, can hold onto. There's only so much of those emotions I can carry on my shoulders and in my chest until it pours out in unexpected or inconvenient ways. After all, it's much more convenient to hide it all and bury it. 

It eventually does get tiring, things begin to wear down and carve pieces out of you. I haven't figured out if those carved out pieces leave me with holes, or leave me with less weight. It's a toss up because it often feels like both. I get numb and fatigued of what gets thrown at me, get thrown at other people, or what I throw at myself. To feel so angry, confused, and sad most of the time –– where I am trying my best and not enough too. 

Writing helps a lot though. Lets me put these feelings down into letters, words, and sentences the best I could. Either that or crying... occasionally screaming into a pillow. It takes a few tries to get the right feelings out. It usually lingers for a while until I feel like I can lift my head, then my arms, back, and legs –– lifting all of my body until I'm sitting up again. Ehh, so my shoulders are slumped a little; not everyone is going to have the perfect posture. We all have something that's putting weight on our lives.

These days I feel more scared, angry, and sad. Mainly because there's a lot to be upset about. 

I feel like my efforts sometimes aren't recognized. The things I sacrifice –– whatever that even means for people these days. And that I'm putting my energy, emotion, and care into people that disregard it because they think they know better for themselves. And so I'm left with –– "well what am I here for then?" How much more can I give, only to feel hurt back? It only feels more draining to be around them too. Because I just think, "I can't with you." And they feel the same. So the cycle continues, and I feel more and more tired. And when I gain a little more energy, sometimes it gets drained a little more. I try not to let it happen, to distract myself and move on. But moving on can still feel shitty when people are still shitty and draining –– let alone not changing or caring the fact that they are.

This pandemic brings the ugly out of people –– and overshadows the sliver of love and care.

Goddamn am I tired of this.