I’m swollen with thoughts, they swim through my mind it’s dizzying, slashing, cutting me to my knees. I feel sick, and I’m screaming but no one can hear no one can ever hear the wails and clawing nails, no one but me. Quiet like a church mouse, a raging hurricane within. The tears come and i wipe them away, swallowing the pressure of bile down down as far it will go before it rises to choke me again. I want to tear my my hair out, feel that burn, feel that infinitesimal pleasure of hurting myself, letting it go, feeling me, draining the sludge out with my blood. Cathartic.
All my skills. I work through them but the one single thing I crave from all close to me, I can never find, understanding. Understanding how sick I am. I FUCKING KNOW I look fine on the outside, I FUCKING KNOW THAT. Give me cancer, give me diabetes, I would take pity over judgement any day. Those eyes staring at me, the silent strangle hold of being alone alone alone. People in the same room and I they can’t hear my screams, they can’t see my pain, and they can’t understand.
Is it worth it? Is it worth the work, the sacrifice, the pretending to be well, waking up each morning convincing myself there is enough worth in this trash to live. Enough hope for what, what hope? What dreams? Other people have hopes, dreams, aspirations, I wake up trying to live, to practice making it through the day, normal, oh so normal. The point? I still don’t know, I still don’t know why I am here, I still don’t know why I do what I do. What is there tomorrow? I will still wake up wondering what mood my mind is in, it’s not my mind, it’s a curse I live with, a parasite that won’t leave.
How much easier to die than live, to give up than work, to cry than smile. To admit defeat than fight…
It’s a lonely world, a walking land mine, pitiful person.
I want a disease, a real disease, one that people understand, they can empathize, they can see. SEE ME, PLEASE SEE ME. I”M HERE, I’M ALONE, SEE ME PLEASE. UNDERSTAND ME.