some days are harder than others 

Some days are harder than others.

I have to keep reminding myself that I have a place in this world, along with everybody else, and that I am useful and intelligent and wanted. 

Some days are harder than others.

When I have to witness the cliques and groups that bond together like glue and realize I never had that, realize that it is different for someone like me, realize that we are not all meant for the same kinds of relationships.

Some days are harder than others.

Wake up, school, work, finish your shift. Eat. Shower. Sleep. (Maybe.)

Wake up, school, work, finish your shift. Eat. Shower. Sleep. (Kinda.)

Wake up, school, work, finish your shift. Eat. Shower. Sleep. (Barely.)

Some days are harder than others.

There is nothing physically wrong with me or who I am, but my mind tells me there is and sometimes it doesn’t shut up. It repeats what is wrong over and over until I shut it out and physically pray to God that anxiety will cease and I can continue what I’m doing with peace.

Some days are harder than others.

“Mental illness” is so vague and worn it’s almost like a designer handbag. Once everyone has it, the value is lost. Everyone has a mental illness these days. Some people think it’s a joke. I am joke? I am not a joke.

Some days are harder than others.

My attention fades and I can’t seem to focus and people think I am mad or being rude or uninterested when truthfully I don’t know what I am. I am here, but I am not. I just want to be left alone.

Some days are harder than others.

People I knew for a long time are doing what seems like big, crazy, successful things. I work in retail. I haven’t earned my associates degree yet. I am not studying abroad, I am not vacationing in the islands, I am not interning or being accepted into schools in cities four times the size of where I am from. I am not. Yet?

Some days are harder than others.

I lead myself into a pool of should haves, would haves, could haves, but none of them mean anything. It is now that means something. I don’t want to be in the now. I want to be in the later

Some days are harder than others.

It seems like sometimes no one picks up how empty I feel, they don’t know, they don’t understand. It’s ok. I don’t either.

Some days are harder than others.

Money, money, money. Without it we are nothing and with it we are nothing, yet it is the center of the world and our fake happiness. It buys things we don’t need or want and we fall for it every time. 

Some days are harder than others.

I am the odd one out, the black sheep, misshapen.

Some days are harder than others.

And I am learning that it will be ok, and someday won’t seem so bad, and everything will be ok. 

Someday. 

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