Category: rage

I don’t even know where to start tonight.

Everything feels too loud and too heavy, like the whole fucking world is pressing down on my chest and I’m supposed to just breathe through it.

I’m tired of pretending I’m fine.

I’m tired of acting like I fit anywhere, like I’m some puzzle piece with a place waiting for me. Most days it feels like I’m forcing myself into corners that were never meant for me.

There’s this anger inside me I can’t explain—

anger at the world, at myself, at everything I can’t control.

It sits under my skin, buzzing, burning, making me want to scream just to hear something break besides me.

And underneath the anger?

I think there’s just exhaustion.

A deep, bone-level tiredness from trying so hard for so long.

Trying to be okay.

Trying to care.

Trying to convince myself I belong somewhere, anywhere.

Tonight I don’t have answers.

I don’t have hope or clarity or some neat lesson to wrap around this pain.

I just have honesty—

and the honesty is that it hurts.

And I’m still here, somehow, sitting in it, writing it out because something in me refuses to let this be the final word.

Maybe tomorrow will feel different.

Maybe it won’t.

But right now, this is where I am—

not pretending, not polished, just me trying to breathe through the weight.