Understanding

Disclaimer: None of these things are things I’ve considered doing, so please don’t call me or text me freaking out for me. My thoughts have come to think deeper about the mindset of those who do these things.

It’s Sunday again, and again I’m using all my strength to stay busy enough to keep my mind off things. It’s my mind that constantly digs up my life and twists and turns it in ways that make everything worse than it already is, and it overwhelms me and paralyzes me. It burns bridges. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever tried to overcome, and I’m way behind in the war.

I wrote today and got some things out, but it didn’t make me feel better. Instead, it made me miss things more, and that’s discouraging. It isn’t loneliness that’s getting to me today, because I want to be alone. It’s just missing the happiness I had that I don’t have right now. It’s also sadness that I’m looking out for myself and keeping some things at arm’s length. Yes, sadness.

I don’t like this feeling. I want to feel something else, anything else. I want to get high, but I honestly don’t know what that’s like because I never have done it, but I know it’s something different. It’s days like this that gives me a little understanding about why people feel not being alive is better than being alive. It makes me feel what people look for when they cut themselves. We’ve all had paper cuts, or even the clean slice of a razor by mistake, and that pain sounds so sweet and satisfying. It’s another pain, a tangible pain, a pain I can point to. I’d be fucking ecstatic to be able to point to my pain.

I’m not sleeping well again, and I’ve never gotten around to eating well. I’m still enjoying the exercise but I’m not doing it enough. I’m still climbing uphill and sliding down the side of the mountain. And I know nobody can help me up and I know nobody will be my happiness. I’m still looking for it inside myself and I know it’s in there somewhere, but I don’t even know where to start. I don’t even know how to breathe sometimes.

I’m feeling my way through the dark like so many other people do, but I’m not running into anything. The room is empty. The darkness is relentless.

3 comments

  1. Sheila says:

    I wish I could express my feelings like you do, with such painful, brutal honesty. I feel privileged to read your posts. For me, finding happiness within myself, is both terrifying and empowering. Terrifying because it is all up to me. Empowering because it is all up to me. Just know there people you have never met, that you have touched, and are on your side.

  2. phenom says:

    Thank you. I wish I didn’t have the words, because then peace would outweigh despair, and I wouldn’t feel a need to write. As it is, life doesn’t work that way. I’ll find a better

  3. Sheila says:

    I understand that your grief has been the impetus for your writing. But I hope, when you find peace, that you continue to write, because you have a gift.

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