Burn out

Where do I even start.

I’ve been back for less than two months, and yet I feel as though every good thing that I gained while away has magically vanished, leaving me worse than before, because at least before, I didn’t know what I was missing.

I am mentally drained, emotionally drained, physically drained, just in general drained.

Every few weeks, I spiral rather severely. (If I can read myself well, I am on the first day of that usually four day pit.)

I hate myself.

Woahhhhh hey now, this one IS going on Instagram, censor it for the viewers, please.

Sorry

I strongly dislike myself.

But give it a few days and I’ll be right as rain. Sort of.

My job is quite literally sucking the soul out of me and everything about my life.

It’s a good job, with, for the most part, good people. It’s easy. Consistent. Decent money.

I am not thriving. I am barely surviving.

I had a good day at work today, came home, and realized that I am still being sucked dry, even if I got to pull dead leaves off of flowers instead of check out customers.

I say it’s because I work the closing shift, so that takes up the whole day.

If that were the case, I wouldn’t be dreading work tomorrow.

I hate feeling like I’m wasting time, but that is exactly what I’m doing.

I’m wasting my life.

Before I went to DTS, and I was scared about leaving, one of the things that I told myself over and over was that I could do anything for six months.

I can do this for six months, right?

I have camp in 29 days.

I’m such a fake. I sent out my “how is life” texts today, and when asked in return, I simply said good.

I am not good.

I don’t have friends.

I think that if I had friends, then I could be ok. I could look forward to hanging out with someone after work, doing stuff on my days off.

But I don’t. Not really.

I should be grateful for what I have. I am. But not right now.

I have Brooks, a flakey at best person who I have to walk on eggshells around, and should have broke things off with years ago, but never had the heart to.

I have a few work friends. That I only talk to or see at work when we’re scheduled together.

I have my mom.

I have Maddie, who I call about once a month.

I have Trevor, who has other friends he does and should prioritize more.

See, I say the issue is the job. And it is! I am so burnt out, so tired, so done with the same mind numbing routine day after day, looking forward to going home and numbing my mind in other ways (see: phone, book, sleep).

If I didn’t have that job, I wouldn’t have to pretend to not be lonely.

If I stayed at home all day every day, it would make sense for me to feel this way.

My eyes only

My new mantra is *mimic gun going off against my temple* “I will! But not today!” That keeps me going for one more day.

Realistically I never will. It always gets better, and then I look back and scoff and sneer and laugh at poor, pathetic past Kiah, who was so dramatic and sad and stupid.

I have no one on this fucking planet who wants to hear my voice.

I am almost positive that everyone at work simply puts up with me.

Brooks is done, I can see it in how our recent conversations have been, and thank goodness for that.

My family got used to life without me, and since all I seem to talk about is leaving, they aren’t too keen on getting used to my presence just to lose it again.

It was as I feared with most of my YWAM friends. We kept contact for a few weeks, then slowly dropped out of each others lives.

I pushed Trevor so far away last time this happened, I don’t think he wants to come back. Or he thinks he has to play it safe or something, so I don’t think of him as my future husband or some shit like that. Those thoughts are long gone, now all I feel is empty. As I have said. I may not have been his best friend, but he was mine.

Our relationship is so different now, it seems like almost a dream, the way we were friends in March and before.

This wasn’t where I wanted to go with this.

“God wants to hear your voice” I want someone that will speak back. He hasn’t said one lick of anything since I left.

“What about the money?!” That was Him speaking to past me, not now me. I don’t want to explain how that is the case.

Can I even post this? I am once again manipulating everything.

Aww look at that, paralleling to the things that I worked so hard to get over earlier.

Nothing is permanent, least of all anything good.

See where my relationship with God went, see where my positivity went, see where my plans and goals went, see where my friends and community went.

And yet I know that I am at fault for all of those absences.

Maybe that’s why I can’t think about Pattaya on without feeling sick.

I knew this would happen, I did everything I could to stop it, and yet here I sit.

Again.

My words fail me. I am not poetical, I am trauma dumping on people who do not care.

God is there. I know that. I think I’ve forgotten how to open the door.