Empty

You know you are alive.
Blood runs through your veins,
You breath;
In... out... in... out
But there is not much more going on.
So you smile,
Even though it has not been reaching your eyes in a long time.

And you keep wondering,

Why and how.

Why do I feel this way,
How is it possible to feel like this.

You have a family that loves you,
You have never been bullied...
Well not by other people at least.

Why do I say things about myself that I won’t say about others?
How come that I see the good in others when I can not name one good thing about myself?

You want to be like the rest of the world.
To just feel normal,

If you even still know what normal is.

You feel like your problems are not worth mentioning.
After all, there are people that have it so much worse.
They are people with actual problems that matter because their problems have a cause while you have no clue what cause of the way you feel is.

And the voices in your head feed on those thoughts.
Live for them.

So you try to figure it all out on your own.

But all you feel is this internal emptiness that just won’t go away.
And you just want to get out of your head.
For the voices to stop screaming at you,
Telling you how little you are actually worth.

You know how it is supposed to be.
You know you have to get out of bed before five pm.
You know you have to take a shower every other day.
You know you should respond to the message you receive from the little friends you still have.
You know you have to go outside and not sit inside the entire day.

But there is always something holding you back.
And you are not sure
if it is the voices telling you this,
or if it is something else completely
but it always says;

“I’ll do it tomorrow.”

But tomorrow they will say the same thing.
And then tomorrow turns in a week later,
and a week into a month,
A month into a year
And you realize that you have been going in this circle for years now.
And nothing has changed.

Because in the end,
You still feel empty.

But hey,
At least you are still alive
I mean,
You have blood running through your veins.
And you are breathing;
In... out... in... out
And being alive is the same as living

... Right?

Or is what you are doing and
have been doing for so long
a thing called surviving?

But does it really matter?
After all, at this point
You don’t even see the difference.

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