I can’t focus in my classes. I don’t have much of an appetite. I see the sun and I cringe because it’s so contrary to how I’m feeling inside. I can’t sing without wanting to cry. I can’t journal—there’s too much to say. God, all I want is to wake up. I’m so tired and weak and my prayers are so vague. My dreams go nowhere. They don’t even take me back a week. They exist in this parallel universe where all of my worries come true. Honestly though, I don’t really know what I want. I’m just so sad, empty, and confused. I’ve never felt this way before. Nobody has any advice for me except that “time will heal things.” I hate to think of that. Of course I want to heal, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to move on. I think going places by myself at night has been a good way for me to go somewhere without moving anything but my heart. I’ve been staying up really late. My eyes beg me to let them rest, but my mind tells me to keep thinking. I keep going on long walks by myself or bike rides to alleyways where I can be completely alone in the night. I need space to think and just be. I listen to one specific album on repeat probably 6 times through until I settle for the sound of the wind against my skin. I can’t sleep in. I roll out of bed and feel emptier than the morning before. I’m not going to pretend that I have it together right now. This sucks, and I think it’s okay to be brutally honest about that. I just feel like I’ve been cast out into the sea without any direction. I’m cold and I’m scared of the dark water. I’m unsure of how deep “deep” is. But, upon my own will, I begin to sink. Slowly I gradually make my way further and further into the deep of the dark never letting go of my knees. Though there comes a point in my sinking as I’m looking out into the emptiness of the water that I realize I don’t actually want to be here. It’s quiet and it makes me feel appropriately melancholy at the time, but this is Hell in disguise. I hold my breath for as long as I can, but my humanity has me rushing back to the surface gasping for air every time. Don’t tell me that God is here with me. I’ve heard that enough. I don’t doubt His presence. Do I doubt that He loves me the same as before? No. Do I really believe that this is the end?—that my dreams are merely dreams? I don’t think so. I don’t think I was created to swim out here alone. But for now, I will continue doing just that.
God, I don’t know how to shape my prayers, so I’m relying on you to pray for me.