I’m not really sure what to write here. That’s a lie. I’m not really sure how I feel about posting anonymously. I’m not really sure about posting at all.

What do I write about? Do I write about the abuse? The fact that he got cancer and died and I’m all alone and stuck in my head pondering the meaning of life.

Do I write about how I’m scared to write. To have a voice. To be seen for who I really am.

Do write about how scared I am to admit to myself that I want a different body than my own. That every day I feel trapped inside a vessel that I didn’t ask for.

Do I write about how I’m angry at God. Because I’ve lost everyone close to me. Anyone who has treated with a semblance of respect and love has died, and I’m still here.

Do I write about how everyday I wake up and it’s a struggle to breathe, to keep going, to place one foot in front of the other and for what?

Do I write about how my entire life was for him? Them? How I never really lived? How I don’t know how to now?

Do I write about how I feel purposeless, drifting in a sea of nothing, grasping at straws for a glimmer of something real?

Do I write about how scared I am to feel? Do let my guard down? About the immense amount of pain that I carry?

Do I write about the night I thought I would have to escape out of the bathroom window? Or about the day he made the decision to end treatment? Or the endless nights I prayed and prayed for God to take this away from him, as I watched him slowly die in front of me?

Do I write about how I watched my best friend take his last breath? And at the same time felt release from and endless circle of abuse we unknowingly carried down from our parents.

Do I write about my friend who decided to leave, who left, who left me here? Who went home before he was supposed to?

Do I write about my family? They died. I needed them. I still need them.

Do I write about how I always seem fine and okay and put together and about how good I am about telling myself lies? And how I’m still living in them because I can’t get out of my head and just feel what I want and let myself have it for once.

Who would want to read this, anyway? Why should I post? There’s no likes or feed back, it just poofs into the abyss. And then I wonder, maybe there is someone who is meant to read this. Someone who doesn’t talk about what’s really going on, someone who feels invisible, alone, lost. Someone who feels they are in an impossibly endless situation with no hope. Maybe they can read this and know they aren’t alone.

I’m still standing. I’m still here, because someone else chose to tell their story.