Tuesday 12 September 2023

Empty Inside

How can I explain to you,
What I can't even understand myself.
That I just feel empty inside.
Or that a part of me feels broken.
Just following the motions in living,
but half of me just feels dead.
I don't want to die, 
just not too sure I want to live either.
Well at least not like this.
I feel useless.
Worthless as I am.
Constantly a burden to you all.

When I'm tired, I can't think.
I can't cope with my body.
Don't want the constant struggle.
Aches, pains, brain fog, fatigue, 
always fucking hurting or needing to rest.
Having to take 5 minutes.
Trying to switch off.

Never feeling rested.
Not able to fully relax.
My body pounding or exhausted.
Tingling, itching, sore or just plain numb.
That invisible itch in my skull.
constantly reminding me of that scene in Harry Potter -  
when Voldemort is inside him and he's just writhing from another's evil soul...

I have to be distracted to be happy.
Get myself out of my head. 
Switch off my negative feelings. 
But what the fuck can switch them off?
Every damn thing I enjoy I can only do for so long.
Before I hurt more, ache, feel dizzy, feel tired, can't think, can't type, 
forget what I'm doing while doing it.
Before someone notices that I'm not talking properly. 
That I can't pronounce something, 
Or said the wrong word.
Start dropping things.
My hands forgetting how to work correctly.
Can't see right.
Blurriness descending.
Hand eye coordination gone wrong.
Unable to move out the way.
While my head starts buzzing and pulling, 
Like its twisting inside.
Feeling all its weaknesses instantly. 
The physical and the mental scars start to breakdown.
And sleep tries to smother me.
Go to sleep.
Start again later.

Is it me just being weak?
Do I need to just get on with it?
Yet, if I try, I just fail.
I just don't know what to do.
The world is overwhelming. 
I don't know where to start.
There's just so much I need to do.
That I want to do.
But I just can't remember what. 
So I do nothing,
just scroll on my phone.
Until something reminds me.
Or I just want to cry.
Sink into the bedsheets forever.

Their tests say I'm fine
Because adrenaline hits well when faced with a challenge.
Something to make my life worthwhile.
A meaning.
Yet they tell me, 'Average, you're fine'.
No I'm not, 
And just maybe, just fucking maybe, 
have they thought this can't speak straight dipshit of a person was actually over average before?
That's,why I'm struggling now. 
Not that I've always been average,
but because my brain has changed.

Maybe that's why I can see through the bullshit?
The constant, drip feeding of the nudge team.
The 'stop you thinking' media.
The glaringly obvious manipulation and agendas.
The lies, the puppets, the distractions.
I'm blind to it all and see clearly at the same time.
And it hurts, it hurts so fucking much, that when they say to jump, others just say 'how high'.
Bending over to lose their rights, and their health, and their freedom... forever.
That of their children.
People I love.

I don't want to be part of that.
It breaks me to think of it.
I don't want to know.
I can't agree.
Exhausted even more from the pain of that division.
My babies...

I try and make plans. 
It works for a while.
Then exhaustion returns and I have to stop.
For a day, or a week.
How much is emotional and how much is physical I don't know? 
But I can't cope.
And after, I'm so behind on the daily chores that extras just aren't possible.
So when, or if, I ever catch up.
(When others help out)
I've just forgotten what I was doing...

Over and over.

Books are half read.
Clothes are half sewn.
Jewellery never finished.
The crochet needle still with wool on it.
Letters never written.
Survey results never published.
Blog posts in draft.
So many to do lists.
Their reminders silenced long ago.

And still the floor needs vacuuming, the washing putting on and the rubbish going to the tip!!
But it's too much.
So I just don't start.
And once again.
Tears just roll down my face. 
As I'm sitting there blankly.
Empty inside.

Until a customer knocks at our door,
And I wipe my damp face, put on a smile, and they never even know.
It feels like an act.
It's not me.
Or we go out.
Escape the reality 
Drowning in natures beauty instead.
So healing.
So, so healing...

At gigs, I'm a different person.
The hidden me appears.
I even look different. 
I know I do.
I can feel it.
The switch has flipped.
I chat to anyone, I enjoy talking with others, laughing, 
Helping them, 
Being of use.
Being needed.
Being appreciated.
On top of it all for a while. 
Hyper focused and organised.
Even joyous!
And then we get home.

The energy vampire in this house haunts me.
Tiredness returns.
My brain starts switching off.
My face changes.
A part of me disappears again.
It's been used up.
Washed away with the make up.
And the crap part returns.
Back to the me that I don't want to exist.
Empty inside.


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