The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot

“so call it quits or get a grip” 

I’m sitting here in the dimly lit living room with my Spotify mix of emo throwbacks trying to sort through my thoughts and the million things on my to-do list. It’s been a trying week. Hell, let’s be real. It’s been a trying year. As soon as I think I’m doing better, I have a meltdown. When I think I have a grip on myself, I get hit with a huge dark spell.

I’m trying. 
I’m really trying to give up control. 
Nothing is in my control at this point in time. 
Everything is out of control. 
Spinning, swirling, crashing out of control. 
And I’m really trying. 

I think sometimes I just implode. Which is silly since I don’t really hold things in much anymore. But I’ve had years and years of practice. I’m not quite sure why I’m not able to put that whole “smush it down until it implodes” method to use again. Maybe because I’ve become a bit more self aware and realize that it’s a ridiculously toxic way of handling situations. Maybe because it was actually extremely detrimental to my well-being.
I wish I was a more stable person for the people around me. 


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