Sometimes sadness rests in my very middle, like a stone. A deadweight. And I can still walk and run and laugh and smile, but it all seems somewhat harder, somewhat tainted, somewhat *off* - because as I walk and run and laugh and smile, I'm carrying around this weight no one can see.
And I don't know how to explain it, or describe it. I don't know how to set it down. Sometimes I spend an inordinate amount of thought into how to just make it smaller. I resign myself it won't go away and the thought of that begins to overwhelm and I go back to smaller, smaller; how to make it lighter.
I make list after list of how lucky I am. How much I have so many would long for. How blessed my life is.
I look through picture after picture proving all of this. Of the many people in my life who care. Of the wonderful things I have been able to do.
Of the opportunities before me on who I want to become.
This stone is so very heavy.
It makes me feel weak. I should carry it - it shouldn't slow me down. I should be able to deal somehow. (But how?) I'm even often able to push through an entire day, convincing myself it isn't there – ‘til I lay down at night and feel as if my heart's being crushed.
I'm not sure what I'm going to do. I know what I'm going to try, and I know in the end this will somehow go away - or I'll just get strong enough it doesn't matter.
'Cause I am so very very lucky. And this will. not. slow me down.
6 years ago