Tired

I am very tired.

Tired of the same issues that have plagued me since I was little more than a toddler.

Tired of the constant battle with anxiety and depression and the insane lengths to which I go to deal with them in a borderline healthy way.

Tired of being in constant need of reassurances that -while genuine and heartfelt- ring hollow and sound increasingly impatient on their 375th recital.

Tired of being a burden to those around me- especially those I care about the most- who have to put up with these ever-present insecurities.

Tired of life on paper-thin ice; the structural integrity of which gives way under the slightest pressure from the most fleeting and insignificant of triggers; plunging me down into the bottomless icy depths of mania, anxiety and self-doubt... which I have experienced for every day of my life and yet will never grow accustomed to.

Tired of being the same old me, with the same issues and doubts and fears and insecurities and pain that I’ve always had; always shifting from one form to another but never going away completely.

Tired of being a negative influence on the lives of those I love... testing their patience and resolve and compassion for every single second of every single day until they finally have enough and decide to go away.

Tired of being so emotionally unstable and so full of self-loathing that I can still manage to shed tears on a sunlit beach on holiday with two of the people I care about the most in the world.

I wish I could make it stop. I wish there was a button I could press or a lever I could pull to shut down 90% of my brain so I can just live and enjoy my life as effortlessly as countless others seem to enjoy theirs.

I’m so very tired.

Tired of being me.