Capacity

*Trigger warning* This is a powerful peace I wrote in the midst of an anxiety attack. Author's note: I would like to add that this is no longer an accurate description of my view on this matter.

I don't have the capacity to be okay right now. 

I can't be with you because I can't feel alright. 

I want it to stop. 

They told me not to hold it in. 

So, I let out the first shaky breath, and let tears flood my eyes. 

I try not to scream or yell, so I let my stomach rise and fall at static patterns. 

My nostrils flare with each shaky breath I take. 

The tears glisten down my cheeks as I let them fall onto my chest. 

I've hit a wall. 

I hear them outside, playing. Doing what I should be doing. Feeling what I should be feeling. 

I don't have the capacity to be like that. 

There is no getting better for me. 

This is my life and this is who I am. 

So, I cry, and let myself feel. 

The tears slow in a matter of seconds, and my breathing eases up along with them. 

They come at random now, along with the hollow beast in my stomach that refuses to stop roaring. 

I smudge the wet streaks with my numb, dry hands. 

My head beats and the constant buzzing returns. 

And here I am again. 

I don't have the capacity.