I got fired...

got fired from my job, and it broke something in me. I have never been fired for being incompetent. Never for not being able to do the job. But even before it happened, I was already walking around feeling like a dumbass, like I wasn’t good enough, like maybe everyone else could see something in me that I couldn’t fix. And then I got sick. Wrong prescription. Two days of throwing up. Yellow bile coming out of me. A little blood sometimes. That scared me. I was weak, shaking, stuck in bed. And while I’m there sick, alone, exhausted, it’s like life just says, “Oh, don’t forget, no paycheck next week, you’re fired.” I was already down. Then my body gave out too. I was supposed to go to a vision board workshop this morning. A room full of hope and magazines and future plans. But I couldn’t even get out of bed. I didn’t have it in me. Later I see the pictures posted of everyone smiling, creating, dreaming. And I’m just… here. Then someone posted lyrics from a song: “I’m not the things my family did. I’m not the voices in my head. I am not the pieces of brokenness inside. I am not the mistakes that I made or the things that caused me pain. I am not the pieces of the dreams I left behind.” And all I could think was that I feel like I am those things. I feel like I am the mistakes. I am the broken pieces. I am the dreams I didn’t finish. When I feel like this, I shut down. I usually call my sisters. But lately I don’t. Because what I just feel like I’m just a burden. My mom calls. But I can’t tell her the truth. I can’t handle the interrogation. I can’t handle the life lessons when I’m barely holding myself together. And I guess what I’m really trying to say is this: sometimes it feels like we are completely alone. Like nobody is coming to save you. Like even if you scream, there’s no one there to really hear you.