ABBA was right. The winner takes it all. (A vent writing thing I did bc holy shit the summer depression is hitting.)
-
What was it like to lose? All my life, I’ve been held to impossibly high standards that I’ve managed to reach. I’ve been scraping the bar, but I’ve reached the standard. I finally made people proud! I felt good for a while, but this proved that my maximum effort, the effort that exhausts me to no end, the effort that has been forced from me, the effort that takes such a heavy toll on my body, is someone’s minimum effort.
The feeling of dread that seeps back into my body is cold. I had known the warmth of happiness and love and care, but now I must go through the cycle of being compared to someone else. Insults, demeaning and derogatory comments make their way back into my life, dragging me down.
I’m fighting for my life in this sea of brutality, struggling to survive, desperately trying to stay afloat, while I watch them float effortlessly, like the perfect being they are. The water they swim in is so clean, and pure. Mine is tainted with blood, sweat, and salty tears. What was it like to lose? It was like normal. It was the norm for me. The only reason it hurts so much is I was doing so well. And then I went and ruined it.
But I must stand aside and accept my place, below them.
