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The rain falls outside my window as though the weather was built for today. It's nice, especially when I'm swaddled in the warm comfort of my bed. I've never understood how people could prefer the sunshine over this. This makes me feel safe. This makes me feel less alone. Taking a look around my darkened room, the curtains block the light from helping to brighten up the dismal world I've created for myself. A world my body finds comfort in. A world where failure doesn't seem like a bad thing. I honestly don't see how people can find comfort anywhere else.

I turn over to light up my phone hoping for something new, but it's always the same old stuff. Regular notifications from the regular people whose lives seem more together. Granted, social media calls for a brave face but even without it, these are people whose lives seem blessed. Problems slide off them like they're made of wax. They're wax sculptures. And I want to be like them. I hate that I do, but, I need to be like them. 

Ridiculous goal am I right? Really should aim higher but it's hard when you can barely stand the thought of putting two feet on the ground. If I just remain in this bed, I'm protected from all the things in my life that want to hurt me. Nothing can reach me here. My insecurities just melt away and I feel all that much better for it. This feels right. It feels like control. And that’s not something I have much of a grasp of in the world outside this room. But I hate it. I hate feeling like I’m missing out on a whole lifetimes worth of enjoyment because I’m not perfect. Because I don’t have what everyone else has. People always say that you should never compare where you are to that of others, but how can I not when that’s all I see? That’s all I know.

It’s not like I want to be here. I hate waking every day and knowing that I have yet to face the struggle of this moment. Because this isn’t where I want to be. I want to be like the people you see on TV who wake up every day ready to tackle each minute with positivity. I know that doesn’t exist, not even for the wax sculptures, but that doesn’t stop me from believing it. How can I not when that’s all I see from them? They have something to wake up for every day and that’s not me. They have something, a job, a relationship, a reason, while I just lay here hoping for something better but coming up short. All I’ve ever wanted was to feel like I belong, that there is a reason for me to be here. But that doesn’t seem to be the case. So, if I’m just gonna take up space I may as well do it from the solitary of this room, right?

‘You know what’ll help? Opening yourself up to people. You won’t feel better until you talk about it.’ The dreaded statement. The verbal equivalent of running nails over a chalkboard. I’m a quiet person, I know that. I’m not one to talk about my problems, and telling me to open up isn’t gonna work because that’s not me. I can’t verbally acknowledge this. I can’t admit that I’m broken, because I don’t want to be. I want to be okay. I want to hope that one day I’ll stand up on my two feet and I’ll be happy. I just want to know that one day this will be possible.

But how is that ever going to happen if this is where I am. Every day is just another punch to the stomach. I’m tired. I’m tired of trying. I’m tired of hoping that whenever I do it could lead to something better, because it never does. Rejection is a normal part of life, but there comes a moment when it all feels too much. It feels like everything is against you, and maybe it’s because you deserve it. Maybe you don’t deserve to be happy. Maybe there is someone better, stronger than you that deserves it more, and you’ll need to wait in line for your chance to shine…If you ever get that chance.

But for me that day doesn’t feel like it’ll ever come. I’ve been pushed and pulled so far down, it feels like and an anchor has been tied to my foot just to keep me there, leaving me floating in the ocean of sheets that cover my bed. I’m drowning, but I still can’t seem to make my way out. I’ve tried so many times before but then I just get dragged back down to the bottom again. That’s how it feels to lose over and over. People don’t seem to understand that it’s hard to get back on solid ground when you’re trapped beneath the water. So here I remain. Lying in my ocean. In between the sheets, the darkness, and a phone that’s a constant reminder of the different lives I’d rather be living.

Yes, I know. This all seems ridiculous for a twenty one year old person to be feeling. I’m supposed to be “discovering myself” aren’t I? This is supposed to be the time in my life when I not meant to have everything figured out yet. The time of my life when I’m supposed to be exactly where I am. I know. But I can’t take that. I’d do anything to skip ahead. Jump to the last few pages of the book. I can’t handle the struggle anymore. I want to have things figured out. I want to have the career, the hubby, the home. This chapter is too hard for me to continue. Why is it so difficult begin the next one? It’s as though my book has been ripped in half and I’ve lost the other side.

BEEP! BEEP! There goes my alarm again; another reminder that it’s time to brave the day even if I’d rather do anything else. 12 PM. Of course, it’s not a pity party unless I’ve wasted half the day. There’s only one way I think I can leave this room. Leave my haven. It’s hope. Hope that today might be the day that my life changes. Today might be the day that I finally get something for myself. It’s absurd to keep lying to myself day in, day out, but it’s all I have. And I don’t want to know what would happen if I give up completely. I don’t want fall down to a point where I may not be able to come back. I want to be able to get through this. Even though it feels so much easier give up, you can’t do that in this life, not if you want to make it to the good part. Make it to the final pages.

But it’s time I say goodbye for now. It’s gonna be hard but I have to do this. I need to do this. I know how the day will go but at least it’ll be something. It’ll be more than me taking pity on myself. And that’s exactly what I need right now. I need to know that I can do more than what my body wants me to think. As I slip my feet down on the ground, I take in a deep breath. It seems silly for someone to struggle with a basic human thing. I understand that. But unfortunately it’s not easy for everyone. It’s not easy for me.

I slide the curtains open allowing the harsh light of the outside world to envelop my body. This is it. This is my first step towards facing the day. Facing the world I try so hard to shield myself from every morning. But right now this is what I have to do. I have to feel like I can do this, because I have to know that my life won’t just waste away in this room. That one day I’ll join the wax sculptures. I will finally be one of them. And I’ll have everything I could possibly want in my life. For all I know this could be it. Maybe the clearing rain is a sign for something better? Maybe this could be the day where everything changes and all I need to do is be brave? Just be brave. And leave my home.