An Exhausting Everyday Battle.

I am so mad. I just want to scream. I want to scream at this world, this awful place that you couldn’t live in. I have so much inside of me. So much anger, sadness, loss and hopelessness. It’s so hard to control, it’s so hard to function each day. The rollercoaster of emotions is making me feel so inhumane.

It’s exhausting. Every day is exhausting. Living life now is so overwhelming, so hard. By the end of the day, my mind and body are completely done. I feel like I’ve traveled the world and back, when I only have gotten through the day.

I’ve come to realize I don’t handle plans well anymore. My anxiety builds up, especially when I have to drive somewhere by myself. I hate driving. I hate driving by myself, with just my thoughts alone isolated in my car. It’s literally too much for my mind and body to handle.

The mental aspects of anxiety and depression alone make me physically ill. My body becomes numb, tingly. My heart starts to beat fast, I feel light headed and dizzy. Pain radiates on the whole left side of my body starting from my chest all the way down to my foot.

Your absence and what happened follow me everywhere. This past week, a man shot himself at a park here locally. He was a teacher, a board member, a father, a husband.  He was 45. I instantly thought of you.

You wanted to be a professor.  You wanted a big family, girls as a matter of fact. You would have taught biology, or paleontology. I could see it before. I can’t see it now that you are gone. I pictured you with a beautiful wife, three beautiful girls and you being a professor at a University somewhere local.

I had to look up this man online who had passed away. He had a beautiful wife and three beautiful girls. Fellow coworkers had mentioned him as being the kindest, most compassionate teacher they had ever known.

That was you Austin. That would have been you. I wanted that life for you so badly. I know you wanted it for yourself too. Why couldn’t this have happened?  Why did you have to leave?

As I’ve been trying to still process this, a reoccurring thought keeps reappearing into my brain.  If you wouldn’t have done it now, would you have done it when you were older? Possibly with kids, a job and wife.  But would you have?  Would that have been enough to keep you here?

I am selfish. If I could have had you here for another 20 years, I would take that within a second without another thought.  We could have had another 20 years of life together. I will never know. I will never know what would have kept you here, if anything at all.  That bothers me. It bothers me more than anyone could ever imagine.

I don’t know how I can live like this the rest of my life. This constant state of exhaustion.  This constant state of sadness. I don’t work out or have the motivation to anymore. I can barely go to work every day, once I come home I am done. I have breathed another day on this planet, I have survived but not how I want to.

Time is supposed to heal, but I haven’t done any healing. You don’t ever recover from something like this, you just don’t. It’s nothing something you just wake up one day and feel better. This aching feeling in my heart will never go away.  This scar on my soul is permanent.

I know you did what you needed to for yourself. I would never call you selfish. But I hurt so bad. I can barely live each day without you. I have turned my life around, I have made a lot of positive changes personally yet I am still falling down this deep hole. No matter what little goodness comes into my life daily, I still am constantly reminded of this unfamiliar life.

I don’t mean to sound so depressed and miserable. I just need to feel like there is light at the end of the tunnel, that there is a way to live again without you Austin. There is no correct way to live without you. You are gone forever and we are here until we take our last breathe here on earth. I’m trying, I’m trying so hard to be better but I can’t. I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t pretend that I am ok, because in all depths of reality I am not, and may never be ok ever again.

Until next time.

So it goes.