I don't know.

I feel helpless.  I don't know what to do.  There are so many things completely outside of my control, things I just have to accept, and I can't figure out how to do that.

I'm worried.  I'm stressed.  Sometimes I can shake it off and forget everything.  It's not too difficult for the most part.  I don't know if it's a sort of compartmentalizing or what, but I can concentrate on things happening now and stop worrying about the other stuff for the time being.  Sometimes.

But I'm getting frustrated and sad at random times.  I can feel the tug of those thoughts in the back of my mind.  The ones I'm not looking at.  The ones that show me terrible things that might have happened.  Terrible things that still could happen.  Things I can't do anything about.  

I can't look at those things.  I can't let them into my reality.  Because once they are here, I'll never be able to see reality the same way again.  They have to stay separate, like a story.  I have to keep them in a separate universe, one that doesn't really exist.

People keep asking me how I am.  How I'm feeling.  If I'm okay.

Usually, I tell them I'm okay.  I'm fine.  And for the most part, I am.  If they ask me at a time when I'm not feeling okay, then I'll tell them.

But then they want to know WHAT I'm feeling.  They want me to take the weird and sometimes terrible things in my head and put them into words.  They want to understand.  But that's the problem.  They can't understand, because I don't even understand.

The truth is that I have no idea how I am.  I have no idea how I'm feeling.  Sometimes, I really am okay.  Sometimes, I can see where everything can go well, how things can get better.  But other times, I just feel helpless.  I feel the horror of everything that is happening.  And I can see those thoughts I'm ignoring out of the corner of my eye.  The scary ones I can't bear to look at.  The ones that lurk in dark corners no matter how much I try to shove them away.

And in those times, when the helplessness comes, when the darker thoughts move closer, I don't feel like I can handle anything.  I just feel like everything will go wrong, no matter what I do.

I'm not depressed.  I was once, and this isn't anything like that.  Depression came from me, and I could feel it inside myself.  This feels external.  It feels like something coming at me from the outside, because that's exactly what it is.  I'm just reacting.

I just don't know what to do.

I don't feel like I can talk to anyone.  It's not that they won't understand.  Most of them probably understand things a lot better than I do.  It's not that they don't know what I'm going through.  Many of them are going through the same thing.  It's probably worse for some of them.  I'm just at a complete loss for what to say.  It's like when teachers give a lecture and then ask if you have any questions.  Even when I'm still confused about the subject matter, I can never think of a single question to ask.  I can't fathom my confusion into something explainable via the English language.  And that's what this feels like.  I have so many feelings, so many thoughts, so many worries, but I don't have words to express them.

And even when I try, even when I talk to people, I'm never satisfied.  I don't feel the relief that comes from expressing my thoughts and feelings and sharing them with another person.  And that leaves me feeling even more frustrated.

That's why I'm posting this here.  It'll be on the internet, but not where anyone will see it.  I'm not talking to anyone, but I'm not exactly talking to myself either.  That feels nice, for some reason.  I don't have to explain myself to anyone, because there isn't really anyone listening.  But I don't have to feel like I'm just talking to myself.  I do enough of that normally.

I'm antsy.  I'm anxious.  I feel dread.  I'm scared.  The strong people in my life have been replaced with people who are just as helpless and scared as I am.  I'm one of the adults now, so when trauma comes along, I don't have the luxury of someone telling me everything will be okay.  Because even if they say it, I know it's not necessarily the truth.  They are just as worried as I am, just as stressed, with just as much dread.  So the words, "It's going to be okay." are empty, if they even say them at all.

I can't help but hope for the best.  I can't even think about the worst that could happen.  That's one of those lurking dark thoughts I can't think about.  But even the things in between aren't comforting.  For once, I need things to work out fine.  I need misfortune to back off and leave me alone for a bit.  I feel like it's been steadily coming at me for a couple of years now.

This doesn't mean I'm not happy.  This doesn't mean I don't have days where I can forget most of this stuff and just enjoy everything.  I'm back in school.  I like my classes.  I'm hanging out with my friends and doing fun things.  Work is still enjoyable.  I'm still reading, writing, doing things.

But when it all hits me again, it hits heavily.  And the feeling of I don't know makes me tired and sad.

I just want to stop being so tired and so sad.  I actually want people to laugh and tell me I have no real reason to be sad.  I want them to tell me how good I have it.  I want to tell myself that.  I want to be able to.  But right now - for the last two years, really - I can't do that.  Because bad things I hoped and prayed would never happen - and some that I never even imagined could - crept up on me.  These last two years have been the happiest and the saddest of my life, and I don't know how to cope with that duality.  

People around me are hurting.  I'm watching the people I love crumble, bit by bit.  I can see the bad things taking their toll on my loved ones.

And I don't know what to do.