The Silent Struggle

We all struggle. Sometimes the struggle of others is so in your face you can’t ignore it. Other times it’s this quiet cloak of struggle that only the individual can see. The cloak may strangle. The cloak may protect. But the struggle still adds layers for that person that you have no idea about.

I prefer to keep my struggle cloak to myself. But in more recent years my struggle spills out and over the brim. It’s hard to keep it contained… and it is not enjoyable to clean up the mess when my struggle bleeds onto other areas of my life. Specifically my professional life.

Right now I’m feeling overwhelmed. I already am having to deal with the fall out of the last spillage… but unfortunately I am far from freed of my silent struggle. I need to work on my self care and getting back on track.

When I look to the blog world about how to help work through my struggle… most of it talks about going easy on oneself, talking it out, and filling your cup up first.

Well, I try to “fill” my cup up, only balancing another cup doesn’t seem to help steady the struggle cup. And it certainly does not replace my struggle cup. Try as I might… my struggle cup still runneth over. I try talking about it… only it seems like people care less and less about what I have to say, or what I’m going through. Can I blame them? NO. Who wants to hear the broken record chirp, let alone BE the broken record. I surely don’t enjoy being this way. But when the people I used to rely on the most no longer have the time in their (new) lives I can’t help but wonder if it is just me. Am I truly stuck in this downward spiral or is this somewhere I, subconsciously, have chosen to be?

I would like to think that if this is a conscious decision I could just walk away from it and make better choices. Make new friends. Start over as a happier version of myself. But here I am. In the midst of my struggle… hating my life but so, so, so lost that I’m not sure of how to go about fixing it. Try as I might to make decisions for my future and I just create more messes, more heartbreak, more struggle.

I’m tired of moving. I’m tired of feeling so utterly and completely alone. I’m tired of feeling like I am a failure in life. I have nothing to my name except debt. I have a career that can sometimes haunt me. I have a family I don’t know how to relate to. Friends that are hit and miss a lot of the time. But I also get it. Everyone’s life is not about me. Only my life is. But at night, when I can’t sleep, it’s the realization of just how alone I’ve become that haunts me. It’s the dark thoughts that bring tears to my eyes that keep me company. Not the friends, nor family that do their best to try to be there.

It’s just me. Laying awake while my animals sleep soundly beside me. It’s just me. Alone. With my cloak of struggle wrapped tightly around me.