Writing but Never Hitting That Publish Button.

I have I don’t know how many posts in my drafts. Some from when I first started writing to some from a day or two ago. They all sound the same. Someone who’s hurting and trying to get those feelings understood so that they can continue on.

A lot of times that is what I use this space for, to get my thoughts and feelings out so that those around me don’t have to hear those thoughts or feelings. And that’s just because I have a hard time believing that anyone wants to hear me, or will willingly listen to me. It’s something that has been a problem for a long time. It wasn’t until recently that I figured out why I’m that way.

My mom likes to pretend that whatever shes feeling I’m feeling too and that theres no way I could feel differently than her. Since shes the one who tried to teach me what emotions were. She never let me have my own emotions or thoughts until I got to a point where she couldn’t browbeat (or literally beat in some cases) me into being her clone.

So by still living that way, I’ve always been so sure that I don’t say anything anyone wants to hear. But my thought process is changing slowly. I’ve got friends and chosen family that truly care about me, my thoughts and what’s going on. I’ve got my own self care down to where my depression is 75% handled by me making routines and doing things I have no choice but to do. I can talk to others about how I’m feeling and they offer genuine advice and concern.

I’m glad I’ve never published a lot of what sits in my drafts. It shows me at my lowest and shows the angry, spiteful, hopeless me. Giving myself time to reflect and refocus my thoughts on topics shows me the better, more positive way I like to be.

(Written towards the end of May, today just seemed like a good day for this.)

Some things happened earlier today that make me stop and think. Now I wonder if I am more of an issue, more of a burden, more of a leech than I ever thought. At the moment, all signs point to yes, and that crushes me. Makes me wonder if my voice deserves to be heard. Or if I should just resign myself to a quiet silence after this. Time will tell. I’ll find a positive to this, in time I hope.

Be kind to others, you never know what they’re dealing with behind closed doors, and what the demons in their head are telling them.