This one is kind of different from the other chapters on here for a few reasons. First of all, it comes from my own place of worry. The other reason is because it is an entirely different form of grief. It isn't grief in the sense of a lost loved one; it's grief because you feel inadequate. It's grief because there is something you are trying to do (have to do), that should be so easy, but you keep failing anyway and you are destroying yourself over it.
I'm so behind.
I'm beating myself up about it every day.
Every day I hate myself even more for my inability to catch up.
I wake up early with anxiety that I feed to myself with my own failure.
I feel like I'm fighting so many things at once and they are all beating me.
I make plans to fix things that sooth my mental battle scars like a weak, cheap bandage that's falling apart.
The plans I made to crawl back out of this hole that I dug myself into are impossible to follow, but they make me feel a little better.
But every time I miss a step I feel like crap again and I hate my mind for being so weak, my hands for giving up, my feet for not holding me up.
Trying to fix months' worth of failures all in one and a half is like taking the biggest boulder in the world and trying to roll it up a mountain of sand that keeps slipping away under your feet.
Nothing anyone could say to punish me for my failures could kill me more than everything I tell myself that I am.
After all this I smile.
After all this I lie and say that I'm keeping my head above the water.
I'm not.
I'm drowning in all I have to fix.
I just can't but I have to.
I have to.
They're making plans for the next things I have to do when I can't even keep up with the things I should've done already.
