It wasn't a bad day.
That’s the problem.
Nothing went wrong,
nothing went right either.
Just… one of those days
that stack on top of each other
until you stop telling them apart.
I got home,
same routine,
same silence waiting for me
like it always does.
Keys down.
Shoes off.
No one asking how it went.
No one to answer anyway.
I sit there for a bit
not doing anything,
just letting the room exist around me.
And it hits again.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just that same thought
slipping in like it belongs,
what difference does it make if I’m here?
No reaction at first.
Just let it sit.
Because I’ve heard it before.
Different days.
Same voice.
And I start looking around,
nothing’s changed.
Same walls.
Same air.
Same version of me
that don’t quite land anywhere properly.
Like I exist…
but not in a way that shifts anything.
People say they care.
I hear it.
I do.
But it don’t always feel like it reaches me.
Like it stops just short
and I’m left filling in the rest myself.
And I try,
I try to make sense of it,
to not take things personally,
to not turn every silence
into something it might not be,
but I still do.
And that’s tiring.
The kind of tired
that don’t show on your face,
just sits behind everything.
Makes simple things feel heavy.
Makes you question
if you’re the common problem
in situations that keep repeating.
I’ve sat with that thought long enough
for it to feel familiar.
Like maybe I am just… difficult to hold onto.
Maybe I don’t land right with people.
Maybe there’s something about me
that makes things fade.
And once that starts
your head don’t help.
It builds on it.
Stacks it up.
Turns a feeling
into something that sounds like fact.
And I sit there
with all of it in my head
and nowhere for it to go.
No distraction.
No noise.
Just me
and everything
I haven’t
worked out yet.
And for a second,
I don’t know what else to do with it.
Not fix it.
Not understand it.
Just… carry it.
And I realise,
I’ve been carrying it on my own
for longer than I admit.
That’s what gets to me.
Not even the sadness
just how quiet it all is.
How normal it feels
to sit in it
and not say anything.
And I don’t have some big answer.
No clean way to wrap it up.
Just this moment
where I’m sat here
with everything feeling heavier than it should,
and the only thing I can think to do is…
say something
I haven’t said properly in a while -
Saint Jude.
Patron of difficult cases,
of things almost despaired of, pray for me.
I am so hopeless and alone.
Please pray for me that God come to me in my hour of need,
and I receive consolation in all my tribulations and sufferings.
And that, I may bless God with
the elect for all eternity.
Amen.
May 2
May 2, 2026 at 4:13 PM UTC
It wasn't a bad day.
That’s the problem.
Nothing went wrong,
nothing went right either.
Just… one of those days
that stack on top of each other
until you stop telling them apart.
I got home,
same routine,
same silence waiting for me
like it always does.
Keys down.
Shoes off.
No one asking how it went.
No one to answer anyway.
I sit there for a bit
not doing anything,
just letting the room exist around me.
And it hits again.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just that same thought
slipping in like it belongs,
what difference does it make if I’m here?
No reaction at first.
Just let it sit.
Because I’ve heard it before.
Different days.
Same voice.
And I start looking around,
nothing’s changed.
Same walls.
Same air.
Same version of me
that don’t quite land anywhere properly.
Like I exist…
but not in a way that shifts anything.
People say they care.
I hear it.
I do.
But it don’t always feel like it reaches me.
Like it stops just short
and I’m left filling in the rest myself.
And I try,
I try to make sense of it,
to not take things personally,
to not turn every silence
into something it might not be,
but I still do.
And that’s tiring.
The kind of tired
that don’t show on your face,
just sits behind everything.
Makes simple things feel heavy.
Makes you question
if you’re the common problem
in situations that keep repeating.
I’ve sat with that thought long enough
for it to feel familiar.
Like maybe I am just… difficult to hold onto.
Maybe I don’t land right with people.
Maybe there’s something about me
that makes things fade.
And once that starts
your head don’t help.
It builds on it.
Stacks it up.
Turns a feeling
into something that sounds like fact.
And I sit there
with all of it in my head
and nowhere for it to go.
No distraction.
No noise.
Just me
and everything
I haven’t
worked out yet.
And for a second,
I don’t know what else to do with it.
Not fix it.
Not understand it.
Just… carry it.
And I realise,
I’ve been carrying it on my own
for longer than I admit.
That’s what gets to me.
Not even the sadness
just how quiet it all is.
How normal it feels
to sit in it
and not say anything.
And I don’t have some big answer.
No clean way to wrap it up.
Just this moment
where I’m sat here
with everything feeling heavier than it should,
and the only thing I can think to do is…
say something
I haven’t said properly in a while -
Saint Jude.
Patron of difficult cases,
of things almost despaired of, pray for me.
I am so hopeless and alone.
Please pray for me that God come to me in my hour of need,
and I receive consolation in all my tribulations and sufferings.
And that, I may bless God with
the elect for all eternity.
Amen.
