I'm pretty sure I should have depression, but I don't let myself think about it too much... I had to fight it my whole life without meds or anything, and now everyone who knows me thinks I have a resilience level beyond measure, and sure, maybe I do. But I don't quite feel like I belong. And joy is incredibly hard for me to feel.
And here's the thing, at the end of the day when I am laying in bed alone I think about what happened that day-- the highs and lows. And I want to tell someone what the best thing about my day was. Or something small that made me smile, smile, smile. Or some tragic thing that wrecked my heart. But here's the thing, I don't have anyone to tell... there's people in my life that care about me, and they don't do it intentionally, but most of the time I tell them something and they dismiss it because they are busy, they're on their phone, or it is something that they just simply don't care about. So they don't acknowledge my words or reply... but every time that happens, my heart sinks a little.
It sinks because that thing was important to me. I don't say very much that my heart isn't attached to-- I try not to pollute the air with meaningless words when we live in a world that never stops talking anyway. Most of what I say has been thought about a great deal before I tell you, because (I over think everything) and I don't want to "bother" you. So when I do say something, no matter how small and meaningless it may seem to you , I was putting my heart out there on the line.
At the end of the day, I don't have anyone to tell these big and little things that are attached to my heart to. And I get lonely. But I'm afraid to reach out to someone for fear of being "too much," or "annoying," or "clingy." So I live in my head. I live in my head, and my head never shuts up. I'm always thinking about something--- how amazing God is that He made oceans and grapes that eventually make wine, how dogs just constantly love people and how they know when people aren't safe or someone is upset, how the world is quickly falling further and further into a deep abyss of hate and selfishness, or how lonely I feel. It never shuts up. And while being in my head can be beneficial at times, it can also be a sad and cold and lonely place.
I have a bunch of acquaintances and several people I pour into, but not very many people that love on me. Not very many at all. Don't get me wrong, I love being there for others, but someone to think of me every now and again would be refreshing.
And I fear that I'm not the only person who feels this way. It is those who have pushed through the deep muck and mire that will love others deeply, listen intently, and pour abundantly, it is those that are constantly pouring and giving that feel this way. We are the ones awake at 2AM, silently crying, wishing someone would listen or ask us... just every now and again...
We are your friends and family.
We are the person you pass on the street.
We are thinkers.
2AM was made for us.
We are the aching hearts.
We are lonely.
We are lovers.
We are dedicated.
We are persistent.
We are fighters.
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