From the day you are born, you are old enough to die

Feeling like this is such a lonely place.

I am about to combust. I thought it happened a week ago but I was wrong. I haven't given my body and mind a chance to recover, therefore my emotions are like an open wound and salt is rubbed in at the littlest sign of any stress.

Sadly, stress likes to find me everyday. Not the stresses that people would usually deal with, say, the car breaking down on the way to work or spilling your tea over all your paperwork that you spent hours on. No, not those types of things. For me, a little look from someone that I didn't feel quite comfortable with or leaving the staffroom when there are lots of people in there... or saying something to someone only to worry about how I sounded... walking through the hall when somebody's using it... worrying CONSTANTLY about how I sound or look or respond to people...

These are just a few of the little things that pile on top of me and push me into the ground. Though they may sound petty to others, for me, it is an every day battle with myself. I cannot brush away the feeling that it leaves. I am left alone in the dark, naked and crying, longing for someone to understand...or rather, longing to not exist anymore.

I've had enough. I've had enough of being strong. I've had enough of this daily battle. Too many wounds that won't close. Too many scars that still remain. I am broken.

The Bernard Bert