The worst thing about being an adult

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Most will be okay eventually, but not everything will be. Sometimes you will fight well and lose. Sometimes you will hold on and realize that there is no choice but to let go. Acceptance is a small, quiet space. Cheryl Strayed

Do you know the worst things about being an adult? Having to pretend you’re fine when you’re not feeling well. To have to show up and smile, to continue with the normalcy of everyday life when you are suffering inside, is simply cruel. “No, I do not want cracked pepper on my salad? Can you see that I’m broken? Leave me alone! “

I do not think there is anyone on earth who can not relate to this – and I mean the quiet misery, not the pushy servant. What is life, if not a series of sorrows (and triumphs), and how do we endure them?

There is a place inside all of us where our deepest hopes and fears live.

It takes a lot of confidence to reveal this part of you to a partner that shines warm sunlight on a piece of you held in the dark. Here in a space of true exposure there is deep and deep love begins. But when the person who promised to share your life with tells you that he no longer loves you, it should kill you instantly, a deadly betrayal. But instead we are left wounded, with a cracked open heart, empty and bare, a forced vulnerability.

How do we even begin to get over something like this? How do you heal a broken heart?

In the beginning, you may feel like a broken shell of a person; a ghost resigned to go among the living. You go through the movements of life without purpose. One foot in front of the other, you get to where “there” is. And honestly, why is heartache so damn exhausting? I have never slept again!

But time goes on, and I suppose you begin to heal; the pain is not there all the time, sometimes you forget it. Sometimes you even laugh! But then you remember again, and that’s awful. Waking up to the stark reality of your situation is the worst. I thought I was not so happy for mornings before, but now I really despise them.

Hiking without any idea of ​​what my point is can be my strong point. No idea where I want to go with this; I suppose I try so hard not to fall into despair. But I am tired. I’m tired of hurting. I am tired of grief. I’m tired of living off a bag. I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of saying, “yeah, I’m fine.” I am tired of COVID and anti-vaxxers and not being able to sleep and Christmas decorations and why the last $ 3 avocado I bought worked perfectly on the outside but was rotten inside. Everything is, I do not know, exhausting.

Every season of meh and gab will end, but it does not make me feel better to write it. Trying to sit with the pain and feel the emotions of a personal tragedy is difficult. But I want to sit with it because I am determined that if anything I will come out of this as a better human being. I may.

I share my own current raw and broken heart here, not for any sympathy or compassion (please do not), but because I want you all to know that you are not alone, in both heartache (as we are all called to persevere at some point and somehow in our lives) and also to have to hold together on yourself when you really do not want to. Instagram is a damn theater – let’s not pretend or act.

Heartbreak is terrible. Life does not always go according to plan. And sometimes it’s boring to be an adult.

By the way, I’m fucking single.

Who else is enduring heartache right now? Don’t just let it be me.

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