The Heavy Curtain: A Story of Exhaustion and Taking a Breath

I am at a stage where i have given up about almost everything. I have limited to the most basic things in my life RIGHT NOW.

At this point, all I wanna do is disappear. People in this world will not bother to know how are you. Even the closest ones in your life will choose to not give a fuck about you, because they'll be tired. tired of the shit that you are giving to them.

They will really start to care when you start hating them. They might not realize what they have done to you. They might have hurt you for something that you did once, and may be you asked for forgiveness and they did forgive you. But the ego and the attitude in them wasn't satisfied for their forgiveness.

When you start hating them, they start being the victim for the problem they caused you. 
the forget what they did to you, the pain, the suffering, the mental torture they made you go through wasn't enough for them.

YOU are just a piece of SHIT to them. I am not saying this all by myself. It is them who said it.

May be, I wanna apologize for who I am and for the way I am, "I am sorry for the shit that i did to you, but also sorry for getting hurt by your actions. I wont be a bothersome anymore or a trouble maker in your life." . May be this is what they want to hear from you? being vulnerable to them.

Life—it tends to throw curveballs at you sometimes. Mine recently have felt like meteors. Everything I think that I had worked for now seems to be slipping out of my fingers; pared down to the bare essentials, surviving, not thriving in it. That is the quiet desperation where the thought of standing another day feels like a chore.

It's a smothering desire just to disappear, to turn out the lights and be gone. Maybe then someone, anyone, would notice the gaping hole I left behind. Maybe then they'd ask, "Where'd they go?"  But the truth is, even with me here, sometimes it feels like no one asks.

You see, I always used to think people cared. Especially the ones who are closest to me. But it seems that has been torn apart lately. It feels like they have grown tired of my struggles, the emotional baggage I carry. Maybe you can relate. Maybe you've reached that point when you start wondering, "Do I even matter?"

The kicker is that sometimes the pain you lug around is because of somebody else. You messed up, you apologized, you owned it. You expected forgiveness, and maybe you got it. But forgiveness doesn't always erase the sting. It just lingers there, festering like an open sore beneath the surface.

And then, when you begin to struggle and the weight of everything becomes too much for you, that same person might try to make you the villain. All of a sudden, it is your fault. They forget their own actions, the hurt they caused. Maybe even play the victim.

It's enough to make any person feel like a walking mistake, a weight burdening upon others everywhere one goes. "Maybe," you whisper, "they'd be better off without me." The worst part? Sometimes, those whispers become shouts.

The thing is, dear reader, I am not saying it is your fault or mine. Life throws punches, and sometimes, well. .. It's okay to be hurting and angry. It's okay to want to scream, "Don't you get it? You hurt me!" But here is the secret they won't tell you: Hate weighs you down further. It becomes a prison you build around yourself.

Maybe the answer isn't in hating them, but in letting go. Maybe it's that "I messed up, you messed up, but I won't let this define me." Maybe the apology you owe isn't to them; it's to yourself.

There is power in the vulnerability of knowing your pain, but it shouldn't have to be about begging for acceptance from people who haven't earned it. It should be about removing from yourself the burden of pretending everything is okay when it really isn't. It's about whispering, "I see you. I hear you. You are hurting, and that is okay."

This isn't a call to action; it's a call to breathe. Inhale deeply, filling those lungs full, and exhale slowly. Notice your pain, but don't be consumed by it. You are strong—stronger than you think you are. You are worth love and compassion, even if you don't feel that at this moment.

This can be a hard world, full of noise and expectations. There is beauty in quiet, too: in the moment for yourself, in the acknowledgment of hurt without judgment.

Maybe disappearing isn't the answer. Maybe stepping back and drawing the heavy curtain on drama for a bit is the answer. Perhaps in that quiet space behind the curtain, the answer lies within—finding your strength, light, within.

This journey to healing is not linear. There will be setbacks, days one feels that crawling is a victory. But remember, dear reader, you are not alone. Somewhere out there, someone else carries a similar weight. 

So, let's keep walking, one shaky step at a time. Let's keep breathing, even when it feels impossible. This story isn't over yet.