Sitting alone in the dark 🖤

Wondering if I should even try.

If there is better, and I achieve it, will it even make me happy.

Because truth is so far, it hasn't. All the progress, the working, the fighting for myself it ultimately means so little when I sit here in silence, in darkness. I might as well not exist. Only a boy and a dog know I exist. I have sacrificed so much for them I barely have an identity.

And I want to keep pushing but I'm getting older and I'm tired.

I might go back to college so I can get a better job, but as a mother, whatever I do for me I take from my son. So maybe I'm not worth it at this point.

Maybe I give up trying to be smarter and more attractive so I can have the money, the friends, the relationship. Maybe I belong in a van, unkempt and I give everything to my son because sometimes I think he's better without me. We're different people, thankfully for him. Most of his struggles are from being raised alone by me. But I had no choice. He didn't have grandparents. His dad wasn't able to fake empathy anymore. It was just me and my grief and disorders.

I know people look down on me. I don't have it together and I'm afraid I never will. I don't even care, it stresses me out so much to try and appear a certain way so people don't run from me in terror. So I've accepted that people don't need me or want me. I've heard all the blame and accepted all the fault for what happened to me so people can dismiss me comfortablely.

I'm not supposed to want people or I'm supposed to pick better people (because people always are so honest 🙄) so it's all my fault, there's no way around it.

I'm alone and unlovable because of me. No matter how hard I try or how much I am effortlessly myself, it's wrong.

So I am just wrong.

Trying to navigate life as a freak of nature but nature is the only thing that doesn't hate me.

Being alone in the dark, alone in the woods, alone at the beach in the sun, it feels good. It's the only time I feel real. Animals don't run from me. Sometimes they even come to me. The sun, the rain, they touch me without degradation.

I never found home really, I moreso feel comfortable and complete when I'm alone outside. But that is a state I only visit, because I have other responsibilities.

I constantly feel disconnected from human life.

I'm tired of the fault people find in me when nobody has this shit figured out.

It feels like the pile of crap it is, is the reality because enough people believe it. Not because it's true. And I don't have the strength or the care to prove anyone wrong.

So I sit alone in the dark and feel the ache of those I lost. My parents. Grandparents. My friends. And it's my fault. It's my fault it hurts. It's my fault nobody loved us. It's my fault for feeling the emptiness. I'm not allowed my feelings. I'm not allowed nature. I'm not allowed love or acceptance. Only fault.

And it makes me want to stop trying. Not give up, just stop trying. I can't fight anymore. The goal was always love and giving. But I'm human and those things are wrong for a single mom with no one to want.

I walk in the woods, the desert, on the beach, I've traveled across this country and back and found nothing. I enjoy life, very much, but it's an endless journey into the unknown. I don't deserve anything more. I try to roll with it, but it doesn't work great as a human with so many expectations of me.

I don't like life defined by others. But when you're this alone, anyone who will even speak to you rings in your mind.