Borrowed Sorrow

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  Growing up, I spent most of my time alone. I spent it reading, playing pretend, writing short stories, dancing, and exploring. Of course, I had a crew: a bunch of busybody teenagers exploring the infinite possibilities of our hometown. When puberty hit, I fell in love with the idea of falling in love, but not the actual relationship part. I mostly read about romance in teen magazines and already felt exhausted by the obligations society threw at girls. Back in my day, being sad was a trend. I was there when the first emo punk bands debuted on MTV. I was there when Avril swapped her skateboard for a tutu. But personally, I was happy. So, I borrowed sorrow from pop culture instead. I picked up my brother’s beat-up guitar and learned to play the most heart-numbing songs. I was an emo girl. The quiet kind you could only discover by reading my notes or scrolling through my playlist. I am a middle-aged woman now. What was once a borrowed sorrow has become the story of my life. Those c...
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Read This When You Want To Give Up

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 I keep listing the reasons why I can't kill myself. And each day it gets shorter.

Still, I live. Liking my job, taking care of others, set goals, and actually achieved it.

All while still wanna die.

So I try to understand, what's exactly in my brain.

What's I'm looking for.

What's the drive that gets me up every morning.

Why I'm in constant pain.

Maybe I'm just dramatic, a little bit melancholy.

I know what I want is for the pain to stop.

And I need to know where the bleeding is to stop it.

What and who hurts me.

Or

No matter what and who, when and how, I need to accept and forgive.

Forgive that I can't change the past, I can't change people.

Accept that I only can control myself.

To tough up and not let it hurts.

Maybe this is not about me.

Maybe the what and the who weren't aware that they hurt me.

It's like a circle.

While they tried to protect themselves, they unintentionally hurt others.

The fact that I wanna die since 4th grade and still living a good life is proof, that I'm strong.

Sometimes for myself, sometimes for others that need me.

I'm aware that I love to be alone, and I want company at the same time.

I also aware, just because I love someone, doesn't mean they have to love me back.

While unrequited love is also hurt, I need to understand.

I'm not what they looking for.

It's really nothing about me.

I need to remember that most people live for themselves.

Nothing personal.

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