What's Real

Veiled.
Yeah, I feel like I haven't said anything. Ever.
It's all been through metaphor and shitty poetry. It's all been under the guise of art and intellect.

Well here it is. As real and truthful as I can say it:
I'M REALLY FUCKING SAD.
And I don't know what, if anything, can pull me out of this.

I have moments of fantastic. Moments of happy. But the core. It's just sad.
Twenty years of therapy. Twenty years of self-reflection and analysis. Knowing more about myself than most people could ever hope to. Understanding the way my mind works, the reason behind my behaviors and motivations and actions. Doing nothing for my entire adulthood but trying to find self betterment. And here I am. Sad. Having full knowledge of the things that make me scared, and unhappy, and miserable. And still not being able to reconcile it.

Why do we have to try and heal ourselves? Who says we can't live lives of misery and depression? Why is it always about getting better?

What if - in all my sadness and pain - I don't want to change who I am? Aren't I good enough how I am?

Aren't I good enough how I am?

Aren't I?

That's just it, I suppose. A lifetime of being told I'm not good enough. And all I've ever done because of it is to try to be better. The best. But I'm tired. And I don't care anymore. Because the real truth - the absolutely fucking real truth - is that this is what I really feel:

I'm not good enough.

So there. My weakness. My vulnerability that I never wanted anyone to know about. There. Have it. Take it and do with it what you will. I'm done hiding behind the veil. Kick me in the face. I won't even feel it anymore.