Don’t ask me how I am…

Don’t ask me how I am…

*A note about this piece: This is a rant. It is not a call for help or anything else terrifying. It’s simply a free write that I found very helpful at the time to write, and it is in no way meant to be directed at anyone in particular. It’s more of a “From the inner workings of my mind” piece. It was helpful to write, and I hope it is helpful to read, if only for the comfort that someone else is going through this too.*

Don’t ask me how I am…

Don’t ask me how I am,

Because you don’t want to know.

You want to hear “I’m great,” or “I’m doing well” or “It’s hard, but I’m adjusting,” or “I’m fine.”

But I’m not great, I’m not doing well, I’m not adjusting, and I’m not fine.

I’m barely surviving, living in this hell hole of heat, and allergies, and my own heartbreak.

I’m clinging to everything around me because if I let one part go, it might all fall to ruin.

I look great on the outside, my home looks so put together, and I’m the “Perfect Wife” because to be anything less than great, or organized or perfect feels like failing. It make you pity me, and I don’t WANT your pity.

I don’t text back, or call, or see you when I visit because it hurts too much to let that feeling in. That feeling where I matter to someone and they matter to me. IT HURTS!

Everytime my phone beeps or rings, it’s a reminder that I’m far far away, that I can’t get back to you now, and you can’t get to me, and I’m ALONE.

Homesickness is a parasite that holds to my heart against all of my attempts to remove it. It’s a crippling, destructive and painful reminder that althought this place is beautiful, and these people are kind, this isn’t my place and they aren’t my people.

It feels like they will NEVER be my people.

I go out to try to distract my heart from the leeching and sucking of the homesickness that winds its way through every fiber of my being, but the mall is like MY mall, and the stores are like MY stores, and every time I try something on I’m reminded that I have no one to show it to. No one here wants to tell me if this pink sweater makes me look like piglet.

You tell me “Just make some friends, then you’ll be happier!”

Right, because when I’m looking for a friend I look for the quietest, most sullen and depressed looking creature in the room and go “There! That’s the one to be friends with!” Yea… No.

No one needs that. No one wants to bring this into their lives right now.

So don’t ask me how I’m doing, because you REALLY don’t want to know. Don’t ask me how I’m doing because “Great” and “fine” and “I’m adjusting” are just concealer to hide what’s actually happening underneath..

I’m Drowning.