I wish it were all just a repetitive dream that I could wake up from and take a deep breath saying to myself “phew glad that never happened”. The despondent thing is is that it’s not a dream. Weary eyes forcing themselves to wake up to another enduring day, almost seems impossible. Managing to get your enervated body up from the place that makes you feel most secure and safe drains everything out of you. You walk to flick on the light pervading the room with brightness leaving the darkness with no place.  Standing in front of the mirror you think to yourself “ who should I be today?” grabbing for one of the many masks laid out in front of you. You carefully place the mask onto your face making sure it stays in place. Standing there in front of the mirror you smile thinking “ you’re going to make it.”
   

How can a place cause so much pain, while at the same time leave you feeling most comfortable?  Everything here has been in my vision through some of the most dreadful and heartbreaking times in my life. While also being there for some of the most memorable times.  The soft color of lavender painted walls gives me a sense of relaxation whenever I take the step into this place. The shelving upon the walls hung by screws hold memories of an abundance of picture frames that extend from my time as a child till now. A mirror covered with printed out pictures of family/friends sits at the end of my room. I stand in front of it almost every day for a long while, studying myself.  If this mirror were a person it would have watched me every day. Watched me carry out my everyday tasks. Watched me fail an abundance of times, and fall down due to the weight that I carry. It has watched me struggle for all of these years.

Having someone watch you grow up and help you deal with whatever life throws at you is a true blessing. It’s what many people are gifted with. I am truly gifted with a mother who has been there for some of the most heart-wrenching things in my life. The beauty that shines through her  gives me a sense of hope, that there is always good things to come out of the bad. Though when it all changes it’s unimaginable. The relationship that I wish I could say I still had with my mom I don’t have with her anymore. The growth that has set us apart is what is causing the weight upon my chest.

What I carry is a burden to me. It drags me down along with it whenever  I want to try and be a better person, or to change it pulls me right back to where I started. The feeling of being trapped overwhelms me, causing suffocation by its great weight that is laid upon my body. The pain beings in my chest, arduous to allow any air into my lungs. The feeling of helplessness sets in, and I begin to feel I am submissive to the painful thing I carry.
The thing that I carry is loneliness. It tears me up inside, and makes me at a loss for words. Trying to get the words out is almost impossible. To just say the things that come to your mind, while trying to make sense of it all,  just seems too strenuous. So you back down, and your mind turns dark. You feel this sense of misery, like the whole world had just caved in on only you. Wishing to just tell the person standing in front of you everything you possibly could you just stand there. You listen to what they have to say knowing what you are feeling is not important. The choice I make is to bury it inside me. That is why the weight I feel is so tremendously heavy, because It is constantly building up each and every day. I feel no matter what I do or say will ever change the way I feel about that.  Imagine feeling suffocated inside your own household because you feel you don’t have a say in anything, and your words mean nothing. You try to give the explanation, but whenever you speak it’s all too confusing to understand; it frustrates you. All you want is for someone to understand. You see it’s easy to put a mask on every day keeping everyone from noticing what you’re truly having to go through.  It’s easy when you don’t have to bother anyone. But it’s hard to hide from reality as well.

Nobody can witness the barbells hanging over my shoulders, dragging me down to a state of feeling I never want to go deeper into. Throughout my everyday life, it’s there. It’s become a part of me, and hasn’t lightened the pressure ever since it has come to be upon my weakened shoulders. The weight I carry is there, It’s exhausting, It consumes me, It’s invisible.