Broken

I’ve always loved the feeling of being alone most of the time. I’d rather lock myself up inside my room and read a book or just scribble on anything that’s going through my mind, than join with the rest of my family watching TV.

I don’t talk on mornings. I’d get up, say a little prayer, take a shower, dress up, and eat without anybody hearing a single word from me. Talk to me and you won’t get anything but a forced smile or a plain nod. You’re lucky if you get a little “ah” or “ok.”

I’m on a very complicated roller coaster ride, or maybe it’s only me making things hard. My creepiness becomes evident during this time. I ask a lot of weird questions to my friends. I think of life’s complexities. I analyze my own existence. I begin to want to do things and yet feel too tired to move even a finger. Everything stays in my head and most of the time, I just want to disappear. I tell a good friend of mine, “I feel broken.” (Told ya.)

These are the moments I feel alone. I think of those few friends I have, knowing that all of them have a job to be busy with, somebody to spend Friday nights with, or toddlers of their own. I look at my pregnant sister, realizing she already has a life of her own. I think of my other sister miles away who just had a baby and is too preoccupied with this little angel of the family. I look at my brother busy with all his friends seemingly contented with life. I think of my dad (there’s nowhere to look coz I haven’t seen him for the past 2 weeks), and it strikes me how distant I am from him and the only thing that connects us is the company he expects me to manage. I don’t have my mom anymore, which makes this period a whole lot harder. If she were still here, maybe I could still curl down on her lap while she watches TV. Or maybe I could sweetly ask her to buy something to eat even if I’m not hungry at all.

Then the weird thoughts and questions pop uncontrollably. Where do I fit? Who do I have? What do I do? There’s a persistent battle within me, knowing the what-should-be-done in life, yet understanding how I feel even if it’s unreasonable.

These are the moments when I am just floating. These are the times I’m having a hard time getting hold of something really solid that would help me stay grounded. I know I have no right to feel bad about life for I am well-blessed and well-loved by my God. I play that truth in my mind repeatedly and pray that He give me wisdom to sort these thoughts of mine.

Am I alone? Am I lost? Am I broken?

Maybe not.

But I feel I am.