I debated about sharing this with you all, but I have to admit I’m at a point where I do not know where else to go and I’m just so tired of being stuck.
I think I have struggled with this since my mom died and we picked up and moved halfway across the world immediately after. I can not begin to tell you the emotional, mental, and even physical shock I went through with all of this happening at once. I lost my best friend, I lost my non-related friends, my hometown, and everything that was dear to me as a ten year old girl. To make matters worse, we moved from the far west to the far south east, which I have to say was an incredible culture shock.
It took a lot out of me. I went from being an extreme extrovert who didn’t care what other people thought and loved being the center of attention, to this shy, timid shell that was not comfortable in her own skin. I was awkward and me, and everyone else around me, knew it.
I was different at school and I was different at home. I never was like any of my family. I never got along with my father, I was five years younger than my closest sibling, I looked different, acted different, and believed different things.
As the youngest I had a backwards mentality that I had to be strong for the rest of my family that was falling apart at the seams. I showed very little emotion for mom’s death apart from anger. They took that as “she doesn’t care.” But I did.
I struggled to relate to anyone with anything that really made me, me. I struggled with who I was to begin with. I struggled with the emotional roller coaster that was inside my chest and my head at all times. I struggled with my faith.
As the years went forward, I slowly started to stuff all of that down, suppressing it and trying to move forward. But even though I made a lot of good friends and put some pretty good academic accomplishments under my belt, at the end of the day I still felt empty, afraid, alone, and sad.
It was not long before I was in college and many of those emotions were drowned out by apathy. As my family struggled with illness and depression and loss of jobs, friends, and cars over and over again and the weight of taking care of some of them started to fall more on my shoulders, I think I just gave up inside.
At first I blamed myself. I thought my apathy was just me being lazy and selfish. I tried to change things over, and over again. I tried to find things to be motivated about. I longed to be passionate, to accomplish something great, and to make meaningful relationships. But the more I pushed myself to finish school, the more friends I made, the more I went to church, the more I worked, the more apathetic and empty I grew. Little sparks here and there just were not enough to light my long extinguished fire.
I started sleeping more on days off, turning in homework as late as I could or sometimes not at all (I thought as long as I pass, that is enough), eating when I was not even hungry, spacing out with friends, avoiding family, and just plain not caring. The only part of me that kept me going was the part of me that wanted to avoid hurting those around me more and the thought of doing all of this work for nothing.
I have to admit… Even those last two things are starting to lose their impact. I have reached the point where I know if I don’t do something I’m just going to become completely lifeless and drop it all.
The part of me that hates that is writing this. The part of me that doesn’t want to be alone anymore. The part of me that wants help.
Am I alone?