Becoming, Lucy

I have thoughts. Don’t we all? Ha. No. I mean, so many. So many thoughts that I can’t hear them or see them or make sense of them.

The overwhelm is too much.

I want to feel. I want something to bring me joy, to feel a surge of, I’m presuming dopamine is what my body wants.

But this feels different. I cant explain it. I feel stuck but also not at all, like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be currently.

But here feels so weird, so uncomfortable, so lost.

25. 25. 25.

What a funny little age.

I’ve only been on earth for twenty five years, then lets instantly minus 16 of those years because I’m still a kid. Fuck it. Make it 18. I’m still a kid. Fuck it. Make it 21. I’m still a kid.

I had kids when I was a kid. 20 my first baby. 23 my second.

I’m still a kid raising kids. I wanted kids. I wanted them that early.

They were technically both planned.

Why did I do that? Why did I give my kids a mother who is a kid? Who is still figuring out life? Who is still figuring out who she is?

Am I always figuring out who I am? Will I always be figuring it out? Is that life? Changing?

Seasons.

No year is the same. I mean literally. Each year, the weather is not the same as the year before.

Is that human life too? Constantly going through the seasons of life?

Is it okay to be constantly discovering who you are? To constantly question? To never be certain?

You ask my friends and I’m sure they’ll say ‘oh she’s caring’ or ‘she’s weird’ or ‘good music taste’ or ‘she’s chaos’ but is that really who I am?

Or is that just who I am for others?

Do I know myself? Will I ever know myself? Will I ever be happy with myself? Are people ever really happy with their self? Do people really love themselves or is it fake?

I saw a quote that said ‘if you’re learning to love yourself, you already do love yourself’, or something like that. Is that true?

Why do I still hear that mean voice?

Are my words worthless? Is anyone listening? Does anyone see me? Do they see past the masks? The act? The smile? Do they see the brokenness? Do they see the tears before they fall? Do they see the smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes?

Do I see me?

Hello? Can you hear me? Are you listening?

Help. no. don’t help. Stay away. Don’t get too close. I might break. You.

I promise I wont. I’ll try not to.

I’m sorry. Stay away. Don’t get too close. My pieces might break. You.