Every day was the same, the boy, trudging along, one step in front of another, wide eyed wonder long gone, replaced by weariness, unbecoming of somebody so young.
This was his life and he had become accustomed to it.
The boy didn’t often mind much, you should try not to feel for him, this is all he has known for as long as he has known how to know.
Every step he takes his shadow comes with him, keeping him company, dancing behind him, always there, always waiting for him to take a break.
A boy such as this was to be seen and not heard. The less he was seen the better for us all quite frankly. The less he was heard the more he could be forgotten, and forgotten he will be, in time.
He had on this day however, unlike all days before, arrived at his destination.
He didn’t realise it until he reached the final step, the boy could go no further, his legs had taken him as far as they could manage to go, this was the end of the end, he had reached the close.
The boy stopped. And as he did, for the first time since he began the trek, he turned to see the path his feet had taken him on.
All he could see was his shadow, stretched as far as the eye could see, enveloping all. Closer and closer it was getting to the boy as he began to lay his weary head.
Don’t fret, the boy didn’t mind as the darkness closed in, he had prepared for this his entire life, he knew he couldn’t run from his shadow forever, nobody can, he had done well to last this long.
For as long as I can remember i’ve been pushing down my emotions, burying any anxiety, fear, resentment or anger I had deep down inside of me. As far away as humanly possible.
Through a gross concoction of toxic masculinity and warped sense of self I’m incapable of discussing what I feel. All media growing up taught me not to show my emotion, never express feeling for fear of being outed as…a normal functional human being??
Everybody has emotions, they allow us to live happy, fulfilling, and healthy lives. So why was it decided at some point that I couldn’t have them? Why did I grow up thinking I wasn’t allowed to be sad outside of my own head? Why is burying my problems so socially acceptable?
The problem with burying your emotions is that they don’t just go away out of sight out of mind. Buried emotions when ignored will stick around. For some, they’re right below the surface. For others, they go deeper. Either way, it’s a spiral and I know that if I continue on this path i’ll end up exploding like the guy in that Monty Python skit that I’d put here if I didn’t want to gross anybody reading this out.
I’ve never wanted to ever burden myself onto anybody. The thought of going to anybody with a problem, no matter how big it might feel to me has always made me feel dirty, why should I ever ruin somebody else’s day with my shit?
Nothing is lonelier than when you need help but don’t feel like you can ask for it. I’ve been running from these feelings for as long as I can remember and 2019 is the time for me to stop, I can’t do it anymore, i’m sick of struggling for the sake of struggling. Burying your emotions isn’t masculinity, it’s naivety.
I’ve been struggling recently, i’ve been struggling alone, i’ve not clearly reached out to anybody for help, i’ve been an idiot.
The process of acknowledging and working on how you are is the bravest thing you can do. If you’re reading this and you’re relating to any of the badly written idiocy above then I implore you to be better than me, rise above the toxicity the world’s imprinted onto you.
If you’re reading this know i’m trying now.
It’s been a hot minute since i’ve written anything. I think i’ve forgotten how? It’s like when you don’t write anything on paper anymore and you need to write on somebody’s birthday card or when a delivery person needs your signature and you apologise because it looks nothing like your signature and it’s just a squiggle but they accept it because they honestly couldn’t care less about the idiot who forgot how to write. It’s been a lot like that, a shit storm of squiggles.
For the first time in as long as I can remember i’m sort of sleeping a little. It hasn’t had much rigorous testing but it’s definitely a start, I’m definitely not taking it for granted. It feels so amazing to actually go to sleep in the dark, it’s like having christmas every day, except it hasn’t made me hate Noddy Holder.
I’m sorry the writing has been so awful, don’t judge me too hard. The next one will be better I promise, and maybe after a couple of these I might remember that deep down I can actually write.