Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Things are a mess.

I don't even know what to do with myself. 
I'm kind of a mess of a person. 
I have the hardest time taking care of the littlest things.
And there is just no reason for it. 
I don't know what's wrong with me.

I'll be so good, so good, so good. 
And then bam, I'm twelve years old again, 
and I don't know how to do anything.

My anxiety levels are almost always through the roof.
More times than not, I'm on the verge of crying.
The smallest tasks turn into the most daunting things.

And then those things get out of control.
I'm so scared I'm going to disappoint the people around me,
that it makes it impossible for me to talk to anybody in my life about any of it.

I never used to be this way. 
I don't know when it happened.
I don't know when lying became part of my daily routine.
Not hurtful lies, not really.
Just, "Yea, I made that phone call." while thinking to myself, 'Gotta remember to do that!'
Or, "Or no, that bills paid. Everything is under control." while silently berating myself for not being more on top of things. 

And then, those appointments go unmade, and those bills end up paid late. 
And that opens the door for more lies. 
Because I can't very well admit that I messed up.
That I slacked a little last week. 
That for some, unknown reason, I just can't seem to get it right.

And, right now, at this precise moment, while I'm typing this.
I'm afraid of the repercussions of my actions.
Cause doesn't the truth always come out?

And, even though, the results are nothing catastrophic.
And probably seem way more dire in my mind.
I can't help but worry what the folks around me would think, 
if they could get a glimpse into what really goes on...