cave_dweller_candy
Okay, so I'm dead serious when I say - Don't read this if you want to think of me as a sane person. Like, really. Once you read this, you're going to think I'm clinically insane.
My heart's pounding right now. I only took one pill. My ears are throbbing and I feel like there's something stuck in my throat. Well, that's what you get for swallowing a panadol without water, I guess. Even though I'm sure it went down fine. I'm shivering right now, aching to remember everything I just wrote in my mind. I can feel it slipping away. I need to remember it. I need to have it typed out, so I know these thoughts are real.
I always write things in my head. Thoughts, poems, entire stories or essays or speeches. And they're fantastic. But when I go to write or type them, I can never remember word for word and it ends up beeing worse than my "draft" in my head. .
Okay, I can't remember exactly what I wrote or the structure of it, so this is going to be choppy and unordered.
I can't go back. I can't be who I was again, no matter how much I want to, no matter how much I try. I was amazing. Ew, ego strikes again. Just bear with me, I know what I mean. I don't know what happenned. I'm struggling with the simplest bit of homework. I can't focus, I can't concentrate at all. Everyone expects me to keep up my academic standards, everything my life was, everything they still see me as. I wonder if the paint of that picture is beginning to fade, if the corners of the paper are starting to curl, if they're able to see past their own blindness and feel the hurt I'm constantly feeling.
No one would suspect that I have scars on my wrist, that I have a knife under my pillow, that I'm the one who cries herself to sleep often, wishing she could end it all. No one sees past the mask, and that's an extraordinary thing.
There's another tear rolling down my cheek. And it doesn't feel out of place. I'm not happy. But I know that I could be in just an instant. I don't think it would be real happiness, though. Maybe it's something I've developed from hiding behind that cheery mask for so long.
I don't like who or what I've become. And even if I switch to old, happy me mode, I'll just feel bad afterwards anyway.
Sometimes I'll stare at the little container of elliptical, scarlet pills sitting prettily on the shelf and imagine what it would be like if I took just a few extra, if I let it all go. Would it be peaceful? Would it hurt? Would I be in bliss? Do the dead have stress?
I face a deep, emotional battle everyday. A moral war inside my own head Do I deserve what I'm capable of? Destruction and harmony all in one. Death seems like a pretty fair deal. The fight is always there, sometimes the pain can be more dormant, but it's always there. I spend precious minutes thinking of all the ways I could silence the beast that roars inside my head, one longing for freedom. Iron overdose would be easy. Bleeding out would be tedious. A jump off a bridge into rough seas would be cold, to say the least.
I still haven't posted the most insane part of all this. The part I really need noted down. The part that will make you all go "What the fu**?".
I have stages of my. . . depression? Withdrawl? There's no word for it.
Dark stage of life --> "false remission" --> progress --> withdrawl/hopelessness --> real happiness --> knocked back dwon in life --> get back up --> pure happiness/best part of life --> rinse and repeat. Mostly.
Oh God, I still haven't written down the weirdest part(s). Maybe because they're recurring things I know I'll remember because of one thing or another. But congratulations, you now know some of my deepest and darkest secrets! Note I said "some of".
I'm not seeking comfort, nor a happy message of support you feel obliged to write, I just needed it down and this seems like a good place.
Now that I've cleared my head by 0.000000000000000000000000001%, I'm going to go back to that homework and see if I can do it.
EDIT: Adding in some things I forgot and other stuff. e.e;
One of the hardest parts about this is right now, I'm in the "depressed" stage. I was 'clean' for a long while, but things kept getting me down and I had to get 'sick' to be able to get 'better'. I'm not going to tell you how I do it, that's one of the "OMG YOU'RE ******** INSANE" parts. The only thing I can look to for comfort right now is that I know it'll all be over soon. It goes in a cycle. I need to remember all this because this is only my second time and I'm basing everything on personal assumptions.
Another thing I can't believe I left out is the remembering part.
My memory's. . . you just never know what to expect. And I can't remember what I was going to write for this. So never mind.
And I finished''' that homework. Turns out letting some of this all out did help. Notice how I sound different here to how I did before? Like, the upper paragraphs of this post? That's because that was all dreamy emotional formal mind stuff, whereas this is more logical thinking straight srsbsns stuff.
>>
<<
You can go now.
My heart's pounding right now. I only took one pill. My ears are throbbing and I feel like there's something stuck in my throat. Well, that's what you get for swallowing a panadol without water, I guess. Even though I'm sure it went down fine. I'm shivering right now, aching to remember everything I just wrote in my mind. I can feel it slipping away. I need to remember it. I need to have it typed out, so I know these thoughts are real.
I always write things in my head. Thoughts, poems, entire stories or essays or speeches. And they're fantastic. But when I go to write or type them, I can never remember word for word and it ends up beeing worse than my "draft" in my head. .
Okay, I can't remember exactly what I wrote or the structure of it, so this is going to be choppy and unordered.
I can't go back. I can't be who I was again, no matter how much I want to, no matter how much I try. I was amazing. Ew, ego strikes again. Just bear with me, I know what I mean. I don't know what happenned. I'm struggling with the simplest bit of homework. I can't focus, I can't concentrate at all. Everyone expects me to keep up my academic standards, everything my life was, everything they still see me as. I wonder if the paint of that picture is beginning to fade, if the corners of the paper are starting to curl, if they're able to see past their own blindness and feel the hurt I'm constantly feeling.
No one would suspect that I have scars on my wrist, that I have a knife under my pillow, that I'm the one who cries herself to sleep often, wishing she could end it all. No one sees past the mask, and that's an extraordinary thing.
There's another tear rolling down my cheek. And it doesn't feel out of place. I'm not happy. But I know that I could be in just an instant. I don't think it would be real happiness, though. Maybe it's something I've developed from hiding behind that cheery mask for so long.
I don't like who or what I've become. And even if I switch to old, happy me mode, I'll just feel bad afterwards anyway.
Sometimes I'll stare at the little container of elliptical, scarlet pills sitting prettily on the shelf and imagine what it would be like if I took just a few extra, if I let it all go. Would it be peaceful? Would it hurt? Would I be in bliss? Do the dead have stress?
I face a deep, emotional battle everyday. A moral war inside my own head Do I deserve what I'm capable of? Destruction and harmony all in one. Death seems like a pretty fair deal. The fight is always there, sometimes the pain can be more dormant, but it's always there. I spend precious minutes thinking of all the ways I could silence the beast that roars inside my head, one longing for freedom. Iron overdose would be easy. Bleeding out would be tedious. A jump off a bridge into rough seas would be cold, to say the least.
I still haven't posted the most insane part of all this. The part I really need noted down. The part that will make you all go "What the fu**?".
I have stages of my. . . depression? Withdrawl? There's no word for it.
Dark stage of life --> "false remission" --> progress --> withdrawl/hopelessness --> real happiness --> knocked back dwon in life --> get back up --> pure happiness/best part of life --> rinse and repeat. Mostly.
Oh God, I still haven't written down the weirdest part(s). Maybe because they're recurring things I know I'll remember because of one thing or another. But congratulations, you now know some of my deepest and darkest secrets! Note I said "some of".
I'm not seeking comfort, nor a happy message of support you feel obliged to write, I just needed it down and this seems like a good place.
Now that I've cleared my head by 0.000000000000000000000000001%, I'm going to go back to that homework and see if I can do it.
EDIT: Adding in some things I forgot and other stuff. e.e;
One of the hardest parts about this is right now, I'm in the "depressed" stage. I was 'clean' for a long while, but things kept getting me down and I had to get 'sick' to be able to get 'better'. I'm not going to tell you how I do it, that's one of the "OMG YOU'RE ******** INSANE" parts. The only thing I can look to for comfort right now is that I know it'll all be over soon. It goes in a cycle. I need to remember all this because this is only my second time and I'm basing everything on personal assumptions.
Another thing I can't believe I left out is the remembering part.
My memory's. . . you just never know what to expect. And I can't remember what I was going to write for this. So never mind.
And I finished''' that homework. Turns out letting some of this all out did help. Notice how I sound different here to how I did before? Like, the upper paragraphs of this post? That's because that was all dreamy emotional formal mind stuff, whereas this is more logical thinking straight srsbsns stuff.
>>
<<
You can go now.
mai cave
T__T
/clings
