Wanderlust is such a romanticized term. It has such a beautiful air of brilliance. A word associated with travel and experiencing the best of life. What they don't tell you is the heavy side. The side where you can travel the whole world and still feel nothing. The part that feels aimless and empty. The dizzying feeling of dread that nothing will ever be good enough. If I can't find joy eating cacio e pepe in the heart of Rome, or exploring castles in Scotland, will I ever find joy? It makes you wonder why we wander when nothing seems to fill that hollowness in your heart. Not people, places, food, or things - nothing. Not only am I wandering the world but my soul also wanders for a place to rest, a place to call home. Nothing seems to fit. Nothing seems to feel right. Why am I cursed to wander when to most it is a blessing?



-t.s.

The light touch of the silk on my breast brings me back to you.

It brings me back to that dance floor with my body pressed up against yours like the cover of a book and it's pages.

It brings me back to your fingertips - a stone skip across my skin.

It brings me back to your hands holding my face and your lips on mine.

It brings me back to that night in the snow where your body was the only source of heat I needed.

You are a chapter that I will never forget - the one that I will reread over and over again until the words come to life off the page.



-t.s.

Do you ever feel so overwhelmed that every nerve in your body tightens? Just so angry and anxious that you want to shake the dirt off of every fiber of your being. Crank up the volume in the car till your eardrums vibrate and only hear one constant, extremely loud noise. Clutch the steering wheel, speeding down the highway, eyes darting to the metal side rail, battling the urge to slam into it and flip your car.

How do I fix this? How do I avoid feeling this way from the beginning? It's the smallest things that set this off and it's absolutely suffocating - like a building on your chest, gasping for air. I think being reckless and overloading the senses helps. Sure it can really hurt you, but in that moment, nothing is okay. I just want it all to shut up - all the thoughts running through my head, all the emotions bubbling up. I just want peace. If that means shaking loose all the parts of my brain and filling that adrenaline by speeding down the highway - then so be it.



-t.s.

5AM : The sky is waking up. I turn over across the blankets and tissues to face the sky. Calming shades of periwinkle and stone swirl out my window. Can I stay like this forever?

6:30AM : Alarm rings - time to get ready. My feet hit the floor reluctantly, but a triumph nonetheless. Vela swishes her tail against my leg and chirps a sweet, 'Good morning!' Can't I just spend the day curled up next to her?

7:30AM : These jeans will work. I've got my purse, don't need a lunch (because honestly I'm looking pudgy lately and I ate way too much last night), and I better get moving or I'll be late. Can't have that or I'll loose my job. Would it really be that bad to not have to work?

7:59AM : Do I have to go in?

8:10AM : I've been here 10 minutes and I already want to stop breathing more than usual. People smile at me and it's sweet but I just feel nothing but heaviness inside. My face feels weighed down by an invisible force and my head is throbbing. How much longer until 5 o'clock?

9AM : I've survived an hour, which to be honest is impressive. Nothing but irritation and eye rolls. Why did I even get out of bed?

11:59AM : Great. Lunchtime. I hope I can just speed by this. I don't want to eat - I feel sick thinking about it. Maybe if I just talk a lot and ask people questions no one will notice that I'm not eating. Who am I kidding, I'll end up finding something to eat anyway - I'm hungry. Why do I have to gain weight from food?

4PM : We're coming up on the finish line. I already know the exact things I will do the moment I walk in my front door - shoes off, bathroom, change into sweats, wash the oils off my face, fill up my water bottle, curl up under the covers, and sleep. Is the day over yet?

5:01PM : Finally. Make a beeline for the car and maybe no one will talk to me - I really just want to go home. I know I was supposed to go to the gym, but honestly I need to be home right now. Is there any traffic on the way back?

5:12PM : Do I have the courage to drive right off this bridge and finally let it be done?

5:25PM : Approaching my home I feel ready, ready to collapse into its embrace. Next I feel a heaviness stronger than this morning, like I'm being pulled toward my bed for comfort. I am so ready to be away from the world. How many more days do I have to do this?

5:27PM: Car doors locked. Walk up to the top floor because I should exercise - after all I skipped the gym. Shoes off. Bathroom. Change into sweats. Wash the oils off my face. Fill up my water bottle. Curl up under the covers. Can't sleep. Tears run down my emotionless face. I just don't want to do it anymore. How much longer do I have to hold out?

6:15PM : Absolute chaotic breakdown. I am a blubbering mess of a human, walking vigorously around my apartment in search of something although I'm not sure what. It's not even a thing I'm looking for, more like relief. Curling up, sobbing beside the couch praying for this to all end. Tortured and ready to die but lack the ability to make it happen. How does anyone love me when I am such a terror?

6:25PM : Exhausted. Finally calming down from a whirlwind of dementors. Still sobbing. Ready to collapse. How much longer can I take this?

6:45PM : The next few hours are just a roller coaster of being silently down and being an emotional ball of fury. It's exhausting. I'm exhausted. I'm ready to be done. How do I make it stop?

9:30 PM : Finally found a little bit of stable comfort in a new strange spot in my apartment. Yesterday it was at the end of the couch, today it's under my craft table. I gather my blankets, tissues, and water bottle to settle down for rest. Why are my mind, body, and soul so restless and depressed?

11:30PM : Still awake with an empty stare on my face. Numb from the stress of the last few hours and going over the events of the day. How many times did I want to die today? A shorter answer to a different question would be - how many times did I want to live today?

1AM : Maybe, just maybe... I won't see the sky wake up and I will finally be at peace. Is it all over yet?

I have an intensly difficult time opening up to anyone. I have been burned so many times, yes, but this isn't about that.

It's about the way you will look at me when I tell you how my mood swings from happily eating ice cream for dinner to throwing out all the food in my house because I should stop eating forever.

It's about the things you will say when I tell you I want to drive my car off a bridge the day after we had a grand time at happy hour.

It's about the energy I will feel when I explain why I don't let myself get too happy anymore because I am afraid that will be it for me - the best memory I will ever have.

It's about the people you will call and the places you will put me when I finally say how I feel about my life and my desire for it to end.

It's all about what I know will happen.

This is why I stay quiet and I cry alone in my bed. This is why I put a smile on each day and break down as soon as I step through my front door. This is why I will never tell you how I feel because I know the moment I do, life will never be the same for us again.

In all reality, everything I do is to protect the ones I love. I stay alive because I couldn't bear to put anyone through the hassle of dealing with my dead body. I keep quiet because I can't burden you with my words. I cover it all up, keep it shoved down deep because I will never open up this storm of emotion to a person who lives life in such an unapologetically perfect way.

I am here because of you. I am still breathing because of you. But I am still hoping that one day, unprompted, you give me permission to leave. THAT is when I will breath a sigh of relief.


-t.s.

No one will truly listen... Everything I want to say or feel out loud will get me locked up in an institution. It's unfair. I can't speak without fear of someone deciding for me that I should be locked up. Don't tell me you know better than me and don't ******* tell me that you know what's best for me. You aren't in charge, you don't get to decide. If that means I have to be suicidal in secret then so ******* be it.


-t.s.