It’s Too Much. What Happens if I Quit?

It’s too much.

I quietly sat in a dark room under the cover of night with the ceiling fan going above me. The television was on, but there was no sound. I sat there alone for what felt like hours. Every time the new reality hit me, it hit hard. I had a face full of tears and those were the only words I managed to get out.

It’s too much.

Every time we looked up, it felt like there was another tragedy or death to grieve. Nobody knew what to do. I wanted to take the pressure off of everyone, because I was home now. I could save the day. That was the expectation.

It’s too much.

I was spinning. I drove all across the city searching for ways to make it easier for the people I love. I wanted everybody to be safe and happy, but more importantly alive. As the losses piled up, it felt like watching a graveyard be filled with only the bodies of your loved ones. No matter what I did, it was too late or simply wasn’t enough . . . for anybody—including me. I put the pressure on myself to have all the answers. Whenever somebody needed me, I made myself available. My needs were secondary, because I could not be okay if everybody else was suffering. During times when I didn’t have anything to give, whether it was the energy, strength or otherwise, I gave anyway.

It’s too much.

Everything was moving extremely fast. My body refused to slow down. My mind was all over the place. It felt like I was actually watching someone else’s experience.

It’s too much.

I was on fire all of the time. It did not matter what the situation was. Whether I was sitting on the couch, working out or attempting to sleep, my body felt like an inferno. My legs would shake uncontrollably as if I was experiencing spasms. I didn’t feel like myself anymore. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I told myself that for a long time. I used to have nightmares of an untimely passing. Growing up in the environment I did made it feel likely. After feeling my whole life that I wouldn’t be here too long, I became overwhelmed with that feeling over the last two years. I felt like the time had come, so whatever I had left would go to the people I cared about the most.

It’s too much. It’s too much. It’s too much.

After a while, I found myself saying it so frequently, I had to ask myself a genuine question. If it was too much, how is it possible that I am still here? Did it seem unfair? Yes. Was it overwhelming? Yes. Did I want it all to end and nobody else to get hurt? That is without question. I would have done whatever I could to stop it, even if it meant removing myself from the presence of those I loved the most. I would carry it all for them. I actually tried. My pain became visible. I never assumed I was the only person dealing with tragedy and trauma, but it started to feel like the wounds would never have any time to heal. I had too much on my plate and not enough love, care or attention to go around. I thought about the Green Mile. If I could take away everybody else’s pain, I might hurt a bit more, but the sacrifice would be worth it in the end. If I could fix things, nobody would have to suffer anymore. It all made perfect sense in my head. I was operating on borrowed time anyway.

This was not a life I expected to live. My love would outlast this storm. Whenever I gained any momentum, something so dramatic would occur that it completely stalled any of the progress I made. I understand it more now that life has the tendency to do that when something major is about to occur, but I had to lose A LOT in order to discover this truth.

I choose to be here every day regardless of how much it hurts. It’s painful at times. It’s frequently overwhelming, but I wake up every day knowing I have a beautiful life, despite the adversity that finds its way to my doorstep on a consistent basis.

I remind myself each day, if you choose to stay down when life adds a little more pressure, you’re setting yourself up for a long, troublesome journey. When you’re going through periods of challenge, it’s always good to remind yourself of what you’ve already overcome. Don’t carry a victim mentality. The fact is that people go through trials and have to find their way regardless of how tough those trials might be. It’s not the answer people want to hear. It is not the answer I wanted to hear after going through so much, but that’s life. No matter how much tragedy you experience or how quickly it comes, life does not care. It requires tenacity, resilience and execution. It necessitates that you continue to show up whenever you’re called upon regardless of the pressure placed on you to perform. Can you do that for yourself? I had to make a choice.

I’m not here to tell you any of it is easy. From my experience, I can assure you it’s not. What I can tell you with confidence is the test inspires a powerful testimony. You just have to find a way to stay in the fight.

Keep writing your story. It’s not over.