Lately, the hurt hurts.
And it hurts really fucking badly.
I feel like I don’t have even the most fleeting of moments to catch my breath. To catch up. To…..nullify or lessen even an ounce of the hurt.
The days are so long, and the nights have felt even longer.
Nightmare, after nightmare, after nightmare.
And, yes, this time…I’m speaking of the asleep kind of nightmares.
The ones that trigger the insomnia. That trigger the triggers. The ones that fuel the fire to the fucked up days.
Fight or flight.
That’s where we currently live.
Defensive, upset, hurt, and overly prepared.
Waiting for the next shoe to drop. For shit to hit the fan.
My hurt is hurting.
And I cannot catch my breath.
I am so strong…but I’ve rarely felt weaker.
I feel so broken. So lost.
So truly insignificant and worthless.
And truly questioning if my puny, meaningless existence is worth the suffering I’m enduring.
I’m struggling.
I can’t catch my breath.
I can’t find the hope. Or a reason to fight.
And I just need a fucking minute.
But I don’t have hope that a minute will find me right now.