People always leave. It’s a fact. I, however, am starting to think people just choose not me. I’m not saying this in a sad way. Sure, it sucks, but it’s my life. I’m always, always left standing alone. Over time, I’ve become mostly immune to the shock that comes with realizing how alone I am. Before I get into that, though, let me explain what I mean when I say alone.
I had a panic attack the other night. In the middle of that attack, I was able to grab my phone and text my brother. He’s never seen a panic attack before. I’ve always made sure to keep him away from that part of my life—it’s scary. But, in that moment, I had no one else. No friends I could text or call, no one who would understand. My brother didn’t even understand; and, usually, I don’t tell anyone when panic attacks happen. I was just so sick of being alone. So sick of feeling like I had no one to talk to. So sick of feeling misunderstood by friends and family.
Immediately, Keaton (brother) texted me back asking if I wanted him to come down. I told him I couldn’t breathe—two-seconds later I heard him sprinting down the stairs. Now, at this point I had been on my floor in a ball, unable to catch my breath with tears flooding out of my eyes. When he came around the corner and into my room he screamed for help. He thought I had passed out or something (that would make panic attacks a lot easier TBH). I rolled over to tell him I was okay, except words couldn’t find their way out because I couldn’t breathe. Keaton sat next to me and just repeated, “breathe, Kels. Deep breaths. Just breathe, Kels.” The attack lasted many minutes after that, but I eventually calmed down and he didn’t leave my side the entire time.
I feel terrible knowing how bad I scared him; how shocked I left him having a clear idea what my life has been like. I can’t put into words how much it meant to know how quickly he jumped into action when I asked. It bothers me that I let him see such a terrible side of the world—just because I was sick of being alone.
Keaton would race to my side every-single-time if I let him. But, I don’t plan on shocking him like that again. I can handle being alone, that doesn’t mean I want to be. And, it also doesn’t mean I will take advantage of my brothers love. He’s just a kid and at least one of us needs to keep their head above the water that mental illness drowns so many in. It makes me wonder, though, will I ever find people who understand; people who don’t look at me like I’m crazy when I tell them what I feel; people who won’t bring up stories I trusted them with…to use against me in future conversations. Will I? I’m starting to think I’m too complicated for anyone to get. I’m too messy for anyone to look at. I’m too deep for anyone to try and understand. I’m just…too.
I realize it may sound like I’m doing this to myself. At this point, I may be. But, if I am, I’m only doing it because I know what happens when I don’t.
To be honest, I don’t really know what the point of this post is. If I want you to take anything away from reading it, take this: if you feel different, misunderstood, complicated, crazy, depressed, scared, etc., allow yourself to feel it. Grow through it and don’t feel like you have to hide it from the world. Eventually, you will find someone who willingly throws themselves into your wildfire. Not only will they help you contain it…they’ll remind you how beautiful it is in the process.