Why is it that those who need not fear the words spoken so often do and those who need to hear the words are present in body but not in heart? Is that how the former become that way, by listening too much?
I think the guilt of the innocent is a bit of a tragic thing. Those with so much potential are scared to move forward because they are unsure of how people will react or what unexpected thing could come as a result of their actions. I believe that professionals are people who aren't afraid to make mistakes and sadly oftentimes I am still an amateur.
And though death is not a living thing, sometimes it feels as such. When things are far beyond my control and anxiety gets the best of me, it feels as though death beats my heart considerably faster than normal. It feels like death and separation, which is a version of death itself, grow inside me. They grow to make an absence, an emptiness, and they leave me crippled and stationary where I am. I can tell myself that it won't last, that nothing here does, but words within seem just short of hopeless.
In times of extreme anxiety it is difficult to come up with a complete and positive thought. Usually, the only complete thoughts are ones of brokenness and lies. Other than that, I may try to convince myself with truths I know, but it seldom works. Anxiety means my mind runs and when my mind runs so do the incomplete sentences in my mind. Things like "I know I can-", "I can-", "I can't-", "What am I-", "I want to k-...", and "No, stop-".
So if you've reached this line, don't meet it with excessive concern. I'm alright. A life in shambles means I'm still living right? It means I haven't receded into the chasm of nothing. I don't need your sympathy, my heart is still beating. Kind words aren't necessary. From life, I am not retreating. Perhaps just holding each other would be nice, though I know it's not something I should be (or will be) needing.
Don't overread me. Perhaps it's just the guilt of the innocent inside me.