A box of broken things

I'm done with this day, this week, this month and this year.
I am riddled with depression and anxiety from all angles and I am just fucking done with it.
I never get time alone, ever. I'm always at the mercy of some other human. I feel chained by choice and am, not surprisingly, sad about it.
All of the death and the loss it has caused topped off with false accusations and the decision to walk away from my team. I may as well have been crumbled up like paper and tossed aside. A missed jump shot in some random strangers office waste basketball ball game.
There is a subtle, ever present, panic just inside my ribs, right beside that spot that no matter how hard I try, doesn't warm. Always discomfort. Always alert. Sometimes furious but generally helpless and desperate. No one will give me answers. No one understands. No one cares. All the news is old, why read it again, right? I'm an archive of bitter, confused, hurt.

Jewel City Roller Girls

I thought I was done having a broken heart. Unfortunately the pain can still slip through the cracks. Trickles of bitter sweet litter my cheeks though I try to keep them dry.
I should be able to let you go as easily as you did me.
I should be able to see that you don't care like you say you did. You didn't fight with me or you believed the lie. Either way, it's been devastating to me and yet...I miss you all. It's so unfair to have this love slowly empty out of me. It still slips through the cracks you know.
I guess it will take a while, it's been a long year.