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The truth has to come out eventually, doesn't it? There's only so long one can pretend to hide behind a smile until eventually the cracks begin to appear, right?
The truth is, I'm not alright. I'm really not. I pretend to be this happy go lucky guy, just as social media has portrayed me for years, but I'm not. In fact, I often think I'm the opposite of that person.
I'm a worrier by trade and a burden on myself due to the excessive amounts of overthinking I plummet on my brain each day.
I worry about how I'll pay next week's bills. I worry about affording petrol to make the morning commute to work each day. I worry about raising my kids the wrong way. I worry about becoming too unhealthy and catching something from somewhere dangerous. I worry about my marriage and whether or not it'll last longer than I hope for. I worry about most things. There's no other way to put it.
Now I have suddenly found myself at the brink of a meltdown and caving in from the pressures of adult life. Somehow, I don't think I'm capable of handling it like I should be able to.
I feel myself descending into a dark place and fear I won't find my way back out again; like a ladder leading home is being pulled away another inch for every passing day.
Everything seems black and white these days. There's no texture or bursts of joy coming from anything, no matter how hard I try to prove otherwise on social media.
My family is my everything, but regardless of the countless smiles and giggles, I still can't fill this void that seems to be controlling me these days. Almost as if I'm not even in control anymore? Like I'm just watching somebody else live my life, whilst I take the backseat and watch this mundane story being told.
Each day I'll wake up and I'll go to work. I'll come home and I'll pay the bills. I'll put a smile on my face and pretend to be this normal guy. But deep down, I'm hurting. I really am struggling, to the point of not knowing how much longer I can hold on.
The last thing I'd ever want to do is leave, but something inside me drags me down and echoes in my brain like a cancer. It's those things that make me worry for my own safety or psychological state of mind. It's almost as if I'm a young body with a dying heart that's incapable of fixing itself.
I'm not sure how much longer I can cope. I don't know what else to say.
I feel myself breaking, both physically and mentally, and some day in the near future I fear I might find myself buried so deep in that hole that I won't be found again.
Darkness seems to be closing in and I don't know how to deal with it.
It's been over a year now and I'm done lying to myself. I'm not okay. I'm tired. I'm breaking.
I just need the lighthouse to show itself soon, because the storm is brewing and I fear I might capsize at any moment.
I'm tired of thinking about money. I'm tired of thinking about work. I'm tired of thinking about life and how I'll manage tomorrow.
I need change. I need something to pull me back from the darkness.
I just want to feel normal again.
Is that too much to ask?
- J T