Put It Down

I am one person. One friend, one sister, one student, one employee, one body, one brain, one heart. Knowing this to be true, I am not sure why I feel the need to be more for others.

I am never helping someone or supporting someone for selfish gain. In fact, if I were selfish I wouldn’t do half the shit I do for people. Now I am not saying I’m a fucking saint but I really hate to see anyone I love down in any way. If they’re stressed, I’m stressed. If they’re heartbroken, my heart aches. You get the point.

Lately I have found myself constantly trying to heal and help others. Where’s the issue? I need help. I need to heal. I am always going out of my way to do so for others and often end up also having to do it for myself.

I threw a pity party recently and just kept asking myself why. Why did I offer to pay for their meal when I barely had enough for mine? Why did I agree to going out if I was already overcome with anxiety? A plethora of like-minded questions circle my brain as I laid in the dark.

I’ve talked about being insecure before with you guys and though this may have a little bit of “wanting to be liked/loved” involved I have decided that’s not it. Not this time.

I get it. I understand it. I feel it……deeply. Too deep. I know what it’s like to have your heart ripped away from you from the person you trusted it with and have to carry on like you’re fine. I know what it’s like to look at your bills and being nowhere close to paying them. I know the stress of not knowing how you’re going to get from point A from point B. I feel so so so deeply the pain of internal struggles and having mental conflicts within. I know what it feels like to feel alone and without support.

So I make it a goal to do what I can so that my loved ones and people I care for don’t have to feel that way while in my presence.

But who’s doing that for me? Is that my issue? Are my boxers all in a bunch because I don’t think I’m getting proper return on my “investments”?

I just want the people in my life to act like they appreciate what I do. Not do it for me in return. Just at least act like it’s acknowledged. SOMETHING.

It’s just I am trying so hard to deal with myself. I am a handful. A complete mess. An utter fuck up of mental health. So fucking appreciate the fact that I’m smiling and helping you figure your shit out while I secretly and simultaneously am searching for mine. Act like you understand I have nothing to gain but satisfaction out of knowing I helped you out because I care and still don’t know how to help myself. The five dollars you asked for might have been my last. The time I offered to go do that activity with you, I might have previously dedicated that time to a self care activity. When you lay on my shoulder crying, try to understand more than likely my sleeve that makes that same shoulder so soft has tears of my own soaking through it.

But guess what? No one forced me. Not one person said “if you don’t come we won’t be friends anymore.” Nobody said “if you don’t help me pay for this you will die a horrible death.”

At some point I confused feeling someone’s pain with fixing their pain. I think the worst part is the select few who make me feel bad for deciding I can’t handle their pain after trying to for so long. SO not only is it not appreciated but I am made out to be a bad guy if I don’t. Again, no gun to my head but the subtle implications here and there that I am not as good of a person as they would like me to be for them is loud.

I AM TIRED. I AM TRYING. I AM CARRYING BURDENS THAT AREN’T MINE. I AM HEAVY. I AM DROWNING.

I carry a bag of burdens on my back comprised of certain loved ones struggles. It’s neither appreciated or reciprocated and it’s time to empty the bag. Actually, it’s just time to put it down.