Hello friends, this note starts on a low note. I originally was planning to edit my next chapter to my story, Please Eat. But something happened that caused me to write this piece, and I really hope that it is a good read for you guys. Please enjoy!
The title is inspired by the word feel, but in Latin :)
*I own nothing*
As always, thank you so much to everyone who is currently supporting me and my stories. You guys are amazing, love you guys.
TMNT
Mikey was tired.
Tired of waking up, falling asleep, eating and drinking. Tired of having to argue his way so that he wouldn't be judged for something he hadn't done. Tired of not loving himself for who he was, and how he constantly battered his very well-being.
Just then, he would've admitted he wasn't just tired, he was exhausted.
The juggling of his everyday duties, but in his words, compared to the everyday busy working human, was zero to none. He still felt the dread of waking up and even doing the simple task of eating that used to bring him so much joy.
Even breathing sounded difficult.
Still, he got up every morning and trained with his best effort. Or at least that's what he's been telling himself. But yet the mutual feeling of life didn't get any better. It didn't get any worse with luck, but it never seemed to bring that same satisfaction that common joys brought him.
In the end, Mikey concluded it was because of age.
That had to be it! It wasn't because he was depressed, because in his mind, he was far from being depressed. He was simply disappointed with how life was currently treating him.
Though he also had to conclude that…
He wasn't perfect, he wasn't kind enough, he wasn't in any place to give any comfort nor receive it. That wasn't unusual, no, but it was unusual for him. He had never had these horrible detrimental thoughts, or those weird judgements given off by his brothers that he perceived.
Or that….he simply wanted to be happy but couldn't.
When he was little, there wasn't a single thought that went into it being a necessary harder one, but sure it hadn't been easy. But he had amazing brothers who had loved him. Or maybe they still did, but Mikey wasn't so sure.
But he had been loved, cared for, and there were never these thoughts that he had now. His self-esteem wasn't low, his happiness was high.
It really made Mikey wonder what happened to cause such devesting results. There wasn't anything that should've caused it, but it somehow did. And now Mikey wanted out, but he was stuck.
Stuck between two hard places that stabbed him in the heart. Battered him whenever he thought that he was happy for once, and never let him breathe through the murky, cold water that filled his lungs.
He was alone. But he wasn't and he wanted to be….but he was scared.
Scared that if he let them lift him up to the highest point, he would eventually fall and come back to where he started. Scared that if he pushed them away, they simply wouldn't come back for him.
His chest pounded, his head swarmed with devesting outcomes, his hands shook, the air warped around him as if he was somehow not part of that universe, because in a way, Mikey wasn't present mentally in that universe.
He started to hyperventilate, he started to sob, he started to cry out for someone to take away his pain but only be met with silence.
Another minute, another second, another fragment of past and present pain. One mean word cuts his hand, another his foot, another word slices his cheek while the other penetrates his heart. He cries out for help, but nobody hears him.
He's scared of many things, but this is the worst, he's fighting against himself.
Mikey stops his thinking, now suddenly knowing that he wasn't and isn't cared for. He was drowning but he hadn't died in the way that he was sure he would.
Maybe numbness is better than this, all his feelings would be gone. But what would be left of him?
Anger starts to fuel his bones; irritation appears in a small frown. How dare they disregard as someone who is a nobody. Because he's not, there is a force to be reckoned with and he is that force.
He is…Mikey doesn't know who he is
Or what he is feeling. There are so many different emotions running through his system.
Sadness for not being good enough
Anger for not being cared for and realized
Envy of someone that he calls himself but isn't
Confusion on what he knows he is feeling, but in reality, is feeling an emotion that is scarily close to the latter
And lastly, realization that he isn't and might never be ok. Or maybe that this is what life is and maybe he isn't tough enough for it. Because either option hurts as if he is being slapped repeatedly.
It takes time
Maybe it was harder than it should, but Mikey didn't realize it at the time. Feeling and adapting isn't some form of some easier path that everyone is guaranteed. Rather its more than some stumble, it takes time to make a cake and it takes time to realize that not every situation is going to be handled correctly.
Swollen eyes, crinkled tissues, tear-stained satin, those are all just objects of a past where true feelings and more than one were issued as a result of some problem that had to be addressed.
But Mikey wasn't ok, he wasn't coveting those physical objects in his heart, rather he was those swollen eyes, tissues and tears, he was living through that adventure. At the time, it was far from pleasant or comfortable for the turtle in the least, but it was something that helped motivate him to prove them wrong.
Though at the time he still cried, he would push that motivational stuff to tomorrow.