Tales From The Mind of Thomas

Alone, the weight on his chest feels unbearable. Staring at the blank wall before him, he questions how much longer he can hold onto his frustrations, his anger, his sadness. How much longer will he keep his emotions bundled inside, with no valve to release? How much longer can he maintain this charade, a smile plastered over a crumbling façade, masking his pain?

How much further in life can he go before he collapses, like a neglected engine of a beaten and rusted car run into the ground? Why does he retreat into the shadows, hiding away and concealing his turmoil, his desperation, his desolation from those who might offer a lifeline? Why does he believe no one would care? Why does he think that he shouldn’t seek help, guidance, or a shoulder to cry on, because others have it worse than he does?

Why does he devalue his own well-being, his own mental health? Why does he devalue himself, crushed under the weight of unfounded beliefs? He knows there are people who care, who would help, but he refuses to seek it out. He refuses to reach out, all because he believes it would be an inconvenience to those around him to deal with his problems, as he convinced himself that his burdens are his alone to bear. That no one should help him because he values himself less than he should.

So, he sits alone, keeping his frustrations and sadness vaulted away. His heart races with unspoken fears; his eyes brim with unshed tears; his spirit fractured under the unyielding grip of desolation. With the lingering question unanswered: Why doesn’t he just seek help?