excerpts from stories i will never write

it feels like every week i can't focus too tired too stressed  a thousand things running through my head the week ahead the week behind like every week i look back i look around i look up and wonder what they have that i don't  what i'm missing what i'm doing wrong to feel so alone and lost and afloat i tell myself -- every week -- "this is just a bad week. it is okay to just have a bad week." but every week is a bad week every week there's something wrong and i pray every single day for trust and for contentment and for letting go of control so where is the fulfillment? where is the answer? why am i still here  every week heart beating faster and faster my breath going in and out and in and out in quick quick quick quick time beat if every week is a bad week where are the good weeks? where are the good weeks? --2.14.21

feels like i'm missing something? looking around at all the people around me i felt myself tear up. i started to cry. because i felt like i was missing something. i still feel like i'm missing something. that i keep doing everything i've been told. that i'm doing the best i can. that i've taken on more than i can handle but i don't want to give any of it up. should i be doing more? do i need to sacrifice some of my own time, some of my own mental health? how much is too much; how little is too little? i feel like i'm drowning. and everyone around me is floating but i can't see how they are. how they manage. i don't feel like i can manage. i don't feel like i'm able to manage.  i know i'm depressed again. i keep feeling myself on the edge of tears. i've been a terrible person this past weekend and he doesn't deserve that. i know the feelings aren't permanent. but they feel like they've never left when they come back. and no