Thread by @arkolokoy, man ≠ weak ; a long threadTRIGGER WARNINGSThis is pretty much how [...]

man ≠ weak ; a long thread

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This is pretty much how from a helpless stance, I& #39;ve seen my life spiral around constant mental and emotional torment this quarantine.

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It& #39;s a stereotype and it has become a stigma. If you& #39;re a man, it& #39;s wrong to feel pain. If you& #39;re a man, it& #39;s not right to carry emotional weight. If you& #39;re a man, crying means you& #39;re weak. These and more have been bothering minds, which probably are the reasons why a lot of ++

men are naïve and afraid to own up to their thoughts and feelings. Why? Because we have to man up and carry on.
I& #39;ve been afraid of losing my own self while trying not to lose my image; I& #39;m always seen as someone who makes happy a daily basis. The truth is, it& #39;s all part of a ++

toxic mask that society forced me to wear and not take off. Doubts instill fear and this fear grows into something that corrupts your sanity and consumes the positive energy you barely have left. ++

It leaves you weakened and afraid to push forward — because you have to act like a man.

As people say, the quarantine period is a perfect time to recollect the fragments you& #39;ve left scattered and mismanaged. They say that it& #39;s the perfect time to catch up with the stuff you ++

miss doing. They say every reason why it& #39;s a time to make it up to yourself, and I say otherwise.

Yes, this quarantine helped me realize a lot of things — from my habits to my character. But I wouldn& #39;t say that it made me feel perfect, nor did it allow me to grasp the clarity ++

I& #39;ve been longing for. A lot of times, I& #39;ve felt mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. There were moments when I felt so helpless that even resorting to music and sleep couldn& #39;t do me any good. For weeks, I stayed up until people on Twitter would tweet ++

their good mornings and I still haven& #39;t gotten the time to sleep. On countless, endless nights, I& #39;ve suffered from all the emotional weight I can barely contain. Mostly, I just felt like nothing; maybe helpless and disappointed, but mainly depressed. Everything felt heavy from ++

all the hurt inside that I can& #39;t seem to voice out — because I have to man up.
I see a lot of posts on social media of how great and positive people have become because of how the quarantine helped them put a lot of perspectives into place. ++

Yes, I& #39;d feel proud and happy for them. They deserve it. But, do I? Above all, I felt envious and drastically disappointed with myself. It felt as if people kept winning battles — even the ones they don& #39;t speak about, and I just remain anxious on all of mine. ++

As someone who has a whole lot of things left unspoken, I find it difficult to talk to anyone about how I actually feel. I& #39;d rather drown in self-pity than actually talk about myself. I& #39;m afraid people might start leaving, because ++

they& #39;d know that I can& #39;t do them any good anymore. It& #39;s how I& #39;ve been used to living, though. All my life, people always leave.

I lost count of the steps that led me astray. I lost track of my dreams — of my hopes to carry on. I lost a lot of battles which has gotten me on ++

my knees, crying and silently begging for anyone to reach out a hand. Repeatedly, I lock myself up in self-made cells as I watch everything fall apart. Silent, voiceless screams have become my battle cry. It felt like everybody else kept winning and that I just kept losing ++

battle after battle, keeping my progress stagnant and my positivity scarce. It felt as if my heart and mind were being dragged out of my chest and head, and shattered before my eyes as I helplessly sit on corners. But, I had to act the other way around — because I& #39;m a man. ++

I came across traumatizing times which led me into thinking that all these things mean one thing — the end. I didn& #39;t just feel like giving up; I wanted to give up so bad that I started to isolate myself from the rest of the world and even tried calling mental health help desks ++

to just cry and not say a word. I mean, is there even anything left of me? Is there even going to be a light at the end of the seemingly endless tunnel? Are there even dreams left to fight for? The world continues to carry on with or without me — whether or not I& #39;ve served ++

my purpose and achieved my dreams. So, what& #39;s the point of pushing through when I can barely believe in myself?

I made this thread to somewhat raise awareness that people aren& #39;t always who they seem like. ++

This is where the importance of checking up on your friends and family is A MUST, because we never really know what run on silent minds. As the quote goes, "There& #39;s always more to what meets the eye." If you feel like you can be of help, never hesitate to reach out, a lot of ++

people need it more than they ask for it. Also, I made this thread because I don& #39;t know if there& #39;s more to me. I even think that maybe this is the last thing that I& #39;m writing. Maybe soon enough, I might not be around to write up articles and stories that people always admire. ++

If this is the last one, I& #39;m glad that it& #39;s finally been about me.

To you who& #39;s reading this, thank you for taking the time to do so. Always remember that you deserve to have a voice, regardless of who you are and who people tell you to become. ++

As for me, I& #39;ll try my best to carry on; but if I can& #39;t, I want to let you know that I regret nothing about what happens. It& #39;s been one hell of a ride, and thank you for being part of it.

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