28 años. Soñadora. Creativa. Parlanchina. (makeiri) wrote,
28 años. Soñadora. Creativa. Parlanchina.
makeiri

I wish I could be kinder to myself

Never enough, always stuck.
Cycles of hurting and feeling alone.

I am sick.

Yes, my body aches. My fever still spikes occasionally. I can barely hear and the constant pain in my head is making it harder to concentrate.
But I am sick on the inside, too. I feel hurt. Malnourished and bare, a shadow of the once happy soul that wanted to spread warmth all over the place.
The way I see it, I have let the little flame inside my heart turn weak. Fear, the feeling of not being enough, the feeling of being unloved, unheard...
It is all so silly. Because I KNOW I am loved. Because there are people who care.

I have brilliant friends that inspire me with their passion and warmth. I have beautiful friends, who check up on me and call me to ask for guidance or just to know if I am doing better now.
I have my eternal pals at Twitter. Always on the lookout, especially when out of the blue I need to attend for an emergency checkup for the first time in my life.
Someone who actually cares enough to bring me WARM SOUP to my apartment when I was feeling my worst.
My parents, who might not agree on a lot of the things I do, but who always remind me they are there for me.
My sister, who has made it her job to loathe those who have hurt me in my place, since I can't bring myself to hate them, no matter how much hurt they might have caused.

So many people care.
So many people are there.
And yet, I still feel lonely. I still feel like no one can quite understand why I let certain things get to me.
And sometimes, I am sick of myself too. I am tired of my complaining, of there being a situation or a drama every couple of days. And I am trying.
I really am.

I try to keep order, I try to be smart. I work hard and keep myself updated on literature important to me. I check up on my friend's lives, I try to be there for them.
I go to therapy, I talk about what aches, I talk about my fears. I share my thoughts and feelings, in an effort to sort them out and to learn. To let go. To be better.

But the truth is that I am too tired. Never enough, always stuck. No matter how hard I work, no matter how many wonderful things I might do or deliver, it is never enough for them.
Because I have not met the quota for what they expect of me. Me, someone who is still feeling lost and lonely in a path of research that, even though I love and I feel very blessed for this opportunity, still, somehow... feel like I have absolutely no idea of what to do.

There is so much I want to do. There is so much I wish to share with the world.
But first I have to fill their quota and hope they accept my efforts as enough.

And yes, life is like that. Corporate schools wishing to rank better are like that. I just have to accept the rules of the game and work harder. Become better. Learn. Work. Deliver.

But... do I really need to always give myself the same internal pep talk over and over again? Is it really worth it, reminding myself of how lucky I am to have this chance, and that I should really make the taxes that pay my scholarship worth every cent? Why do I keep pressuring myself, hurting myself telling me that I am not doing enough, that there are not enough results, that nothing I do is Q1 material? Where is the growth in that? Where is the kindness?

I wish I could be kinder to myself. I wish I could actually bring myself to sleep 8 hours every single night. I wish I could drink enough water to help my body heal faster. I wish I could keep myself confident that, no matter how hard things might look on the outside, my value as a human being is never at risk.

I wish I could believe more in myself.
I wish I could be gentle.
Maybe even sweet.

I am tired. I am just too tired all the time and I have no idea of what I can do to make things better.
So I will allow myself a moment to feel. To understand. And to let go.

There is work that needs to get done.
Deep breath. It will be okay.

Here we go.

M

Tags: letters, myself
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