Some Days 

Some days..

Some days I’m okay. 

Some days I’m not. And those days that I’m not okay have been few and far between lately. 

But today, today I’m not okay. Today I’m a ball of emotions. Emotions that were brought to the surface again because of a show I was watching on Netflix that’s based on one of my favorite books.

A book that made me think twice about the thoughts running through my head. A book that is still one of my favorite books even if it’s over 10 years old. 

A book that has me sitting here realizing that I’ve been in many similar situations as the main character in the book/show. When you turn to people and they fail you. They let you down. They don’t end up being your support system. They leave you high & dry left to face your demons alone. Those days are hard. 

I still remember when I left my ex-stepdads house, I told my mom we had to stop at my then boyfriends house. I told him that I needed to talk. I told him what had been going on. He had nothing to say. A few months later we fell apart. We tried, but we failed. He didn’t ever ask about my abuse. It would’ve been too much to hear, especially because I never outwardly showed how it affected me. I always hid it away in tiny compartments within me. Safe. 

Some days like today I feel alone though I’m not. 

Some days like today, I’m simply not okay. And I’m thankful that Tyler knows those signs and just is there for me. 

Did I mention that he let me down once? I was so far down my depression hole that I thought offing myself was the only way out. An old roommate busted into my dorm and just sat on my floor and held me. I texted Tyler and told him I wanted to talk. Bethany walked with me to his dorm. I told Tyler outside of his dorm building that I wanted to die. He didn’t say anything. Just stood there. 
Sometimes, sometimes there’s nothing to be said when someone you love wants to die. 

Sometimes all you can do is listen. 

And sometimes some people follow through with their thoughts. I self harmed, but I could never complete the task. I never self harmed seriously enough, but the thoughts were enough to consume me. 

I wasn’t looking for attention when I self harmed. I was looking for a way to feel something when I felt numb. Which is a stark contrast to when I drank myself numb to cope with my grandpa’s suicide. Oh the irony in that paragraph. 

But today, I cried. I let those emotions surface that haven’t surfaced in a while and it’s okay to do that. It’s okay to feel sad. It’s okay to not be okay. 

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