In my head…

Sitting on my porch.
Rain hitting my shoulders as I type.
Just thinking.
Reflecting.
On life… the choices I’ve made and the things I’ve done.
For as much as I’ve been hurt, I’ve hurt people too.
Good people.
Gave a lot of pieces of myself to others, but took pieces from others too.
For as many voids as I have, I’ve also left them.
Does that make me a bad person?
I WANT to be better.
I’m TRYING to be better.
But I still do things to be spiteful.
Because it just hurts.
Lash out because I don’t know what else to do.
Nobody understands how I think or how I feel.
Life’s been such a rollercoaster of emotions.
Ups, downs, hills, loops.
But I’ve always had a strong stomach.
Everyone always tells me how amazing I am.
But am I?
“I don’t know why you can’t see yourself for you who are, for what you are…”
A monster?
I’ve done a lot of living in my “short” time here.
Learned a lot of things.
But I’m still here feeling so incomplete, so incompetent.
Like a failure.
I keep making the wrong decisions…
I have THINGS, yes.
Things I should be proud of.
But what I don’t have is happiness.
Not true happiness.
It’s comes in fleeting moments.
”Just let yourself be happy”
Ok, but I’m NOT.
I’m miserable.
I want to nothing more than to lay down my sword and my amour.
I want to breathe.
To live.
Maybe I really do need to just pack up and start over.
Or maybe I need to stay and face my demons.
I’m not as strong as everyone thinks I am.
Not as smart.
I really do like being alone.
It’s quiet. Calming. Familiar.
When I’m around people, I use humor to hide my pain.
Sarcasm to blind people from my scars.
Alcohol, nicotine, even the company of others, just to numb my pain.
Always trying to drown out the hurt. The doubt. Everything.
Constant state of intoxication.
Bandaids on bullet holes
But eventually, I’ll come to again and face the reality.
At the end of the day, I’m still human.
Everything is temporary.
Maybe I expect too much from myself.
Or maybe everyone else does.
I don’t want to give up.
But God damn it, I’m close….