I am done.
Done with the not-enoughness.
Done with trying.
Done with the hurt.
Done with all the tears.
Done with the heart-searing pain.
I am alone in this struggle.
This minute-by-minute battle.
The bracing, the wincing, the screaming, the crying, the tension.
I feel this aloneness in a visceral, heart-stopping way.
People not knowing what to say,
Empty offers surrounding me like the pain that has a tight grip on my heart.
The aloneness never used to bother me.
I was alone even when I wasn’t.
Now it’s just more apparent.
Crystal clear in the darkest moments.
Feeling done…but knowing that I cannot be.
Alone or not, it’s up to me.
In this moment of feeling done, I know it’s not actually an option.
Not really.
Not now.
Not for a moment in my heart.
Not even for a split second.
So instead, I become undone.
I let myself feel the anger.
I question the choices I make.
To not feel so alone, but for a few loving saviors.
To feel a connection.
To feel anything but the pain, just for a moment.
Undone is all I can do.
It’s doing the best I can in this moment.
And swallowing the hard truth that it is still not enough.
It hasn’t been for a while.
For days, for weeks, for years.
But it has to be now.
I am done.
And I have become undone.