10/03/2025: Oh, How I Desperately Wish

I feel unusually heavy today. I don’t think sad is the right word even though there is a hint of something resembling that emotion mixed in. 

I’ve been having dreams about matters unresolved, and I’ve been apprehensive for things to come in my life. My subconscious has taken over, robbing me of precious hours of sleep—at least after my conscious worrying brain finally relinquishes its grasp and surrenders to the clutches of what dormant fears decide to creep in when I close my eyes.

I believe I feel heavy about these recurring thoughts because I know that somewhere deep down there’s nothing I can actually do about them. It doesn’t matter that I’ve identified these things or that I know what I need to actually flourish. The people and things—or, rather, versions of these people and things—responsible for these latent concerns aren’t going to go away no matter what I do. 

There are certain constants that we all have to live with, even cope with. And the idea of having to suppress parts of myself to cope is a hard one to come to terms with. Of course I love people and things for who and what they are, just as I hope that I’m allowed the same amount of grace. But something is nagging at me deep down. 

In some cases, it feels as if I’ve done my best to support and respect others, but not everything is reciprocated all the time. Just as any given person needs certain conditions to be met in order to thrive, I share the same basic need, and for once I just want to be completely heard. 

It’s not my intention to damper another’s true self so that I can be myself; I just want open, honest, unconditional relationships. I want to feel as if I’m loved and respected for wanting to better myself, or at least for wanting to be authentic. I hold so much love inside for life and for the people I care about, but I don’t have infinite places to put it. So I’m left to my own thoughts and my solitude, where I drown in those emotions that I don’t know what to do with, and I talk to an internet page that doesn’t talk back. 

At the end of the day, the worst part is that we know that being truly honest with people about everything—after an entire lifetime of not knowing ourselves, keeping our thoughts hidden, or both—sometimes causes more harm than good. At this point, is it just selfish on our parts for pointing it out? For hurting someone else with the truth even if continuing on the same path hurts us as well? Are we simply refusing to accept others’ flaws as we strive for enlightenment ourselves? 

I struggle to find the balance and I know I always will. But I also know that I do need certain things to be fulfilled, to feel like a real human. And I know that some people just aren’t in a place to give those things wholeheartedly, no matter how desperately I wish they were.