cos i'm dreaming that i'm sinking again

it ain't easy you know, to leave the darkness behind

I feel sick every time I start working towards what's coming. There are too many things I still don't know, and not enough time to even begin to start learning. I shouldn't be so afraid, not when I knew this was what I was signing up for. But I am, and I was equally-but-probably-more terrified by it back then. I guess I thought that in the time leading up to it, I would learn to be okay. I'm not really sure why I thought that, not when even in the months leading up to that decision I was still bursting into tears in front of my class at having to stand up there. I've never been confident in any ability. 

Even just thinking about what I need to do makes my stomach constrict, makes me feel lightheaded, nausea creeping up in my throat and tears clouding my vision. 

At this point, it's basically just the fear of stopping that's keeping me going. There are ways to deal with just about anything. It's easier to not allow yourself to think beyond the next day, the next hour, the next minute, if that's what it takes. (It does.) Things will be okay. (But it's always hardest to believe.) 

Something else is that I'm tired. Tired of never having enough time for anything. For myself, for doing the things that I want or need to do, for seeing and spending time with the people that I want to see. I know that part of it is because this semester is structured so oddly, and I know that things will get better eventually, but it doesn't change how I feel. And I know that in these weeks to come, I'm just going to be more and more tired. Truth be told, I don't know if I'll be able to make it through without breaking down. I don't know if I can go for so long without a reprieve, without-- I'm a touch-dominant person, you know? And no matter what you can say to me, or how much I can tell myself that I believe it, believe you, these words are empty without the tangibility of you by my side. I need to be able to parcel away time where I can see you, take the time to remember who I am. 

I wish that I didn't feel like I'm falling apart in the first place. But I also wish that people wouldn't just believe me when I say I'm fine. This isn't to say that I want people doubting me all the time, or to think that I'm incapable of handling my own life, but when I think you know that I'm not going alright or that I'm lying to you and you don't make an effort, it hurts. More than it originally does. But nor do I want to be the type of person who is always falling on others; sometimes, it's felt as though they're secretly thinking, judging, wishing that I would just get over it (get over myself). 

I've never wanted to be needy, I've always wanted to be better than that, to be the type who is needed. But the fact remains that I am and I always have been not needed but needy. I'm sorry.