On the outside it looks like I’m doing my best. Working hard on my activities despite the enormous amount of stress it gives. Struggling with the anxiety and all my other turbulent emotions. Coping with the weight of the world on my shoulders when I know full well it’s nothing compared to what my family is going through. The sacrifices they’re making is incomparable. I’ve simply found an excuse that has a heavy-looking exterior. But from the inside, you can see that I’m simply useless.
Friends may disagree. The great ones will always do their best to validate my feelings. Others may try to encourage me while some are frank but with good intentions to motivate me. They do this because I always try my best to be a good friend. And they do their best to reciprocate.
But whatever people say or think will never change the facts.
Some people may think that I’m still fighting. I put up an act of making a great effort. But the stress is real. My God the stress is real. But it’s not always founded on legitimate reasons. Some days I just get random bouts of depression. Regardless of though, I know I should be doing more. I should be doing better. But I’m not. Some days I give the bare minimum. I think of more excuses to deceive myself and others that I’m able to be a functioning member of society. That I’m able to be a decent building block to keep the family foundation strong and stable. But I’m not. I’ve lodt hope that I ever will.
So what am I doing?
I’m buying time. I’m waiting to see that the pillars of this home is strong enough without me. Despite the fact that I’m a burden to this world, I’m still needed even if just as a support to keep things standing. These walls are strong and with my presence it’s even stronger. But only because of simply existing.
Someday they can be strong without me as well. All I’m doing is buying time.