A cry for help

Fatigue [noun] ~ /fəˈtiːɡ/

"A state or attitude of indifference or apathy brought on by overexposure."

I have thought of many ways I can write this. But the more I think about it, the less idea I have on how to express my feelings. These are not easy things to write or say, and even more difficult when you cannot find yourself in the jungle that surrounds you. Because you know how you feel, but you don’t know how to say the things you want to say.

You want to be understood, but you shut yourself down to the world, because you feel it has nothing to offer you… because you have nothing left to give.

Today I heard the expression, “when life feels too heavy to carry around,” and it made me think of all the things I have to bring with me everywhere I go. The mundane things we do every day without giving them a thought. The deep worries we carry. Our concerns. All those things we don’t advertise. The feelings we carry.

All that matters is that we deliver what we need to deliver, and we comply with what is needed. Nothing else is expected of us, because life is like that.

We all bear this weight on our shoulders, and yet we never stop to think about it. Nor do we know how to express those feelings to others, because we either can’t do it or don’t feel comfortable doing it.

“You are not lost, you are here.”

We never know how bad our life or feelings really are until we see someone who is having a worse time than we are. It is that perspective that gives us a proper lens to analyze our life and understand how to deal with our problems… which are not even problems, they are worries.

But they get mixed up with our feelings. And that is when the cross becomes too heavy to carry. Because we don’t express it. Or worse, we try to express it, but it does not land on anyone. It just goes up in the wind, disappearing into the ether, forever.

No matter how you feel, no one can really understand what it means to you, or how it affects you. My problems may not be relevant to others, nor do I want to burden someone else with my worries.

How can we then connect?

How can we find that helping hand that understands our position, and at least tries to understand why those things burden us… but not others?

Is that cry for help really something that we need in our life?

I will never know.

Because I chose not to call for it. I chose to do what is expected of me, and not to question why it has to be that way.

I don’t expect anything from anyone. That way all the great things I receive from those close to me fill me with joy and gratefulness. Because they do it with intention, with purpose, with love.

This is a very simple way of living my life, because I cannot be disappointed if I don’t expect anyone to hear me, to understand me, to help me.

It’s like Bitter Sweet Symphony… life goes on and on.

We do what we need to do.

We don’t expect anybody to save us from ourselves, because nobody really knows how you feel, or how things affect you in the way they do.

Life goes on.

I go on.

I don’t stop. Not by choice, not because I don’t want to… but because I can’t.

Do you?