This Is Me Giving Up

Maranatha Pizarras

What does it feel to actually give up? Nothing.

I woke up this morning feeling the same emptiness I had always felt since the 3rd of December 2016. There are times when I would tell someone about this void that I have been trying to fill… but mostly, I keep it to myself.

On normal days, as I open my eyes, I would look at my phone with disappointment, wondering when will I get used to the fact that I will never receive a message, or anything at all, from that specific person ever again. I know in my heart that nothing will ever be the same again.

On some days, when my emotions are at its peak and too much to bear, I’ll find myself crying for even waking up when all I really want is for everything to stop.

But I still get up. I still deal with life. I still breeze through it. Not in the hopes that things will get better… trust me, gone are the days that my hopes are endless. I try to get by day in and day out all because I have to. I have to live until the day that it’s okay not to live. I hope I even make sense for saying this.

I try to always be there for everyone else who needs me because I know how it feels to not have anyone at all. I sincerely listen even to the most shallow rants because I know how others will tell you that they are willing to hear you out, but never really understand. I see to it that I get the chance to at least make someone smile because I know how it is to be surrounded by so many people that wouldn’t even care if you’re unhappy.

I live my life making sure that no one else gets to feel the depth of my loneliness each and every day. Because again… I know how hard it is to live a life feeling so hollow inside.

When I lost the drive to be happy, to even look forward to the changes that might take place, the only thing that keeps me going is the idea that someone else can walk the other way and avoid the road I took, the path I chose.

This is me giving up.

While most people will see the beauty in what I may have been doing for other people… if I am a bystander who’ll take the time to look deep into my life, my story would probably be the saddest thing I’ll ever witness.

I don’t get scared of endings anymore. I no longer feel sorry for the failure I had been. I watch myself fade in a crowd wearing the ugliest smile I can muster. I feel a lot in feeling nothing… and I hope no else would ever have to feel the same way that I do.

Subtle hints are the kind of hints that you should closely listen to. There may be people trying to live by their sadness, but not everyone can carry a heavy heart. When giving up is the only option you can think of, it’s not easy to pull yourself together. No matter how much they try to convince you to stand again despite your wobbling knees, hitting rockbottom is an emotional damage that you just can’t shake off easily. There are those who make it back up, and there are those who just give up. While the former sounds encouraging, I’m part of the latter.

I honestly don’t know where I’m going with what I’m writing, but this is just me being vulnerable as I had always been. I guess I just want everyone to understand that suicide doesn’t only mean ending one’s life, or death for that matter. There’s more to it than what a dictionary can provide you. I guess I just want people to be a little kinder, more compassionate… and to learn to read between the lines. Accept the reality that there’s more than meets the eye.

I may have lost my faith in myself, but not in humanity.

And we can always save a soul, can’t we? TC mark

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