I don’t want to think about me. I don’t want to take the time to pause and reflect on truth. I don’t want to take the time to pause and reflect on my life or my day or my future. I stopped breathing when I began typing. I realized after the second sentence that I was holding my breath. I am holding it now.
I avoid the truth on the days when I feel the worst about myself. When my life seems so far from good enough.
The thing is, I know it’s not true. It may be how I sometimes see my life, how I sometimes feel about myself, but that doesn’t make it less of a lie. The problem is, I can’t see the truth through the lie, even knowing it’s a lie. All I feel is shame. I don’t want to stop long enough to sit with it.
Instead, I hold my breath. I type quickly. I don’t worry about making sense, just about being done. So I can go back to ignoring thoughts and feelings. So I can go back to ignoring me.
Somewhere on the edges of it all, I imagine there is probably a different, better way. Somewhere, I’m aware that this old way of coping may not really work for me anymore. But for tonight, it seems like all I have for now. So I hold my breath, clamp my teeth, and get this over with as fast as I can, so I can check out again.