Barely Breathing

by retrodiction

Occasionally, I get into one of these moods, where everything upsets me, and I want to punch somebody in the face. Then I want to spontaneously burst into tears for absolutely no reason at all — except, I can’t. I just can’t. My tear ducts just will not comply. And then I will watch Captain America (or whatever else happens to be on TV) and I will feel my heart ache, and my eyes will well up with tears, just because I find the movie so damn ridiculous. 

I mean, who runs a mile a minute with nothing but a shield and never, absolutely never, gets shot. Not even once. Those German soldiers must be one hell a bunch of rejects.

So this silly movie will make me feel thousands of negative emotions, and I won’t be able to focus on anything for the day (in fact, for days to come). But the best I can do, is only to recognise that I’m feeling these negative emotions. Negative representing a big umbrella of emotions I cannot even begin to describe. Not because I don’t want to, or that I can’t find the words for them, but mostly because I don’t recognise them.

I cannot tell frustration from sadness, or disappointment, or loneliness, or hurt. All I ever do is swing from anger to numbness with the snap of a finger. And if I’m lucky enough for it to be a good day, I overflow with joy. Like, “non-stop giggling, endless jokes and high on 10 cans of Red Bull” joy. The worst part of it all, is that I don’t even know what made a ‘good day’ good, and a ‘bad day’ bad. I cannot predict how I am going to feel the next morning, hell I don’t even know how I’m going to feel in the next ten minutes.

So right now, I’m somewhere between hopeless and numb. I woke up this way and it’s barely mid-afternoon but already, I can’t wait for the sun to set. Except, I have an endless list of important things to do, but I don’t feel the urgency for any of it. In fact, if it were up to me, I would probably curl up in bed for the next 7 days and hibernate. But then again, I wouldn’t be able to do anything but lie there, tossing and turning. The silence that fills my senses isn’t enough to drown out the noise inside my head — or the numbness inside my heart.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone has felt any these things before, (of course there is, silly me) where my heart feels hollow and heavy, and it weighs on my ribcage and my lungs. And if I imagine— figuratively— what my heart looked like, I picture this organ the size of my fist; dull red like the colour of dried blood; fragile like the sun-dried leaf. It is frayed at the edges, and each crack is a vein that has long ran dry. And this overworked machine is an easily crumpled heart, falling in flakes like ashes in the wind. Ironic how something that feels so heavy, seems so weak and so light.

Yet this description is the epitome of my entire being.

I am sum of all my contradictions. My strengths are my weaknesses, and what I love, I also absolutely hate. I posses what I don’t want, and I want what I have left behind, threw away, abandoned.

I do not believe in wishes upon stars, or the eyelash I blew away. I much less believe in praying to a higher power for what I want. But today, like every other day, I will believe that I deserve to feel happy. That one day, I will stop single-handedly ruining my own life.

And until that day, I will believe that I can hold on.

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