The sun shining high in the sky through the blinds on my window frame with heat emanating from the clouded glass, magnifying itself as it enters my room. A long night passes with this light representing one more night done and one more morning received. Normally a representation of the simplicity of the day, taken for granted through normal processes of living but these nights and sometimes brutal mornings fluctuate between insomnia and certain kind of darkness. I don’t understand why these feelings come but it’s not the lack of understanding that hurts me, it’s the the intensity they arise this time and unwillingness for them to dissipate
These motivations I held on to so well in the proceeding months have all but left me with this feeling of aimlessness crowding out everything else. Perhaps it’s a need for me to step back and process these events that have captured both my world and the world at large. It feel so frustrating though that none of my usual devices seem to work, that my body and mind will not operate the way I would like. These darker moments showing up and not letting any of my reasonable thoughts speak, just pouring out of me like a wound not yet healed.
These nights are particularly painful as they entice the me in ways that I hate. The feeling that scares me is the imagination of my wrists strewn apart and the blood flowing through them. A feeling that parades upon my skin is so real I can feel warmth and wetness of blood tickling down my arms. These thoughts which ordinarily would be so abhorrent are tinged with certain sense of sweetness and provocation that makes even these normally distressing acts seem a possibility.
It’s about surviving now, these long nights and troubled mornings. To give myself enough time to recover from these feelings of helplessness and haplessness. Mounting difficulties persist and even through my running and moving I can’t seem to outpace these thoughts. It’s scares me as it saps from me of my strength. These thoughts pervade in a time when I can’t get lost in the world. These struggles persist with my mind entertaining the thoughts of the usefulness of my departure. I seek help and hope for salvation. My heart is silent, it has been for some time. What did I do to turn away from it. Where did it go when I needed it most. I don’t want to quit and regret, but I don’t know any other way out.
Life can be hard and words can be difficult. There is a degree of a need to be honest with one’s self and other people. I struggle with that every day as step closer the edge not wanting to people to pity or look down on me. I’ve already had those eyes trace me for far too long having to wrestle with these perceptions of undeservedness on my own behalf. What I need is time, time to correct myself in this space. I don’t know when everything began to fall or what the last piece to come and throw me into this place but I keep fighting. I hope to be alright in the end but to honest, I don’t know anymore.