I’m trying to block it out. Really, I am. But I can feel it creeping in on me, wrapping around me and slowly suffocating me. This disabling sadness is crawling under my skin, leaving goosebumps behind.
I can’t take it…
I… can’t…

I’m trying to block it out. Really, I am. I’m just so tired of not being good enough, of wanting something else, of being powerless. I can’t stand it another day. I can’t stand to be a disappointment in everything I do and am. I can’t stand to be told I do everything wrong. I can’t stand to pretend another day.
I can’t take it…
I… can’t…

I’m trying to block it out. Really, I am. I don’t want to be ‘fine’ anymore. I don’t want to smile for the cameras, though they want me to be happy. They change their lenses to understand, but I don’t want them to see what I’ve fallen into. I can’t tell them the full story.
I can’t take it…
I… can’t…

I’m trying to block it out. Really, I am. But I’m so sick of it. I’m so sick of being sad, of being angry, of being confused, of being hurt. I’m so sick of it. I hate it. I hate it. I’m sick of myself, of not being who I want to be, of being too weak to stand up to myself, for myself.
I can’t take it…
I… can’t…

I’m trying to block it out. Really, I am. But I realized that blocking it out is not the answer. Blocking it out is the problem. When you block it out, you block everything out. You block everyone out. You block out the problem, and you block out the solution. Don’t block it out.
I can do this…
I… can…