It’s time. For a long time depression kept you held tightly in its grasp but now you are holding onto it. I guess I understand. It is familiar. It is comfortable. You only know what life is like with depression as your best friend. You have gotten so used to third wheeling with depression and anxiety that you started to bring along self harm so you weren’t the one walking in the grass because there wasn’t enough sidewalk. It is time to make your own path now. These friends are not good ones to hold onto. You know that one girl in elemetary school. When middle school happend you just kinda stoped talking. It wasn’t a bad thing, you just grew apart and you will remember the things you went through together. You are the you that is standing here today becasue of that friend, but it is time to let go. Life has a different path for you now. You are no longer stuck in the darkness. You have to let the sunlight in and stop pulling the blankets over your head. Put the long sleave shirts away. It is time your skin felt the sunlight again. Your depression isn’t holding onto you anymore. You are holding onto it like a kindergartener when their mom drops them off the first day of school. Stop waiting for someone to come pull you into the light. No one is coming because no one can see you. You have to walk out of your room on your own. With your own feet. By your own will. You have to go and see life for what it is. You can be happy, but you have to choose to be. You have to stop choosing to be sad, to be stuck. For so long it controlled your life, but you have the controls now and you have to run before it comes back, before you run out of time becasue God knows you don’t have much time before you lose control again. You have lingered in the shadows for far too long. They have contaminated your eyes, your lungs, your heart, but a little light can bleach all of that away, but it can only do that with your consent. Life gave you the the key to the chains around your wrists and you are the only one that knows how to use it. The light cannot cleanse a soul that does not want to be touched. Open yourself to happiness because it is time you smiled again.
Have you ever held something in your life so important that you could never think about losing it? Something that feels so perfect that you could never imagine it breaking? Me too. It built me. It carried me when I couldn’t walk. I held it closer to my heart than any part of my own self, but now I can barely hold it in my hands without it crumbling to pieces. I think I might have held it too tightly. I didn’t mean to, but it is turning to dust. Or is that ashes? Did it burn? Am I the one that burned it. I tried. I tried really hard to take good care of it, but it has turned into something not even I recognize. Something I held so dear has turned into something so toxic for me. The soot from the fire is clouding my eyes and I can no longer see the destruction it is causing in my life. It is burning my lungs and is coating the walls in darkness. I think it is trying to destroy me. This thing that I loved so dearly is becoming my most painful memory, but I cannot let it go. My arms are chained to its foundation. Detaching yourself from emotions, they say, is bad for you, but if I am about to be demolished I do not want to feel anything for this thing that caused it. I do not want any love left for this thing that has torn my soul to pieces. I loved it. I didn’t leave it on a shelf. I carried it in my pocket and showed everyone how beautiful it was. I was so proud of it and now everyone will watch it ruin me. It is turning me inside out and allowing the world to see the most vulnerable parts of me before consuming them into the darkness of its grasp. There is no leaving and there is no going back. I am learning that love can only be toxic. There is no version of love, for me, that is not there to destroy. I give my whole self to love and when it succumbs to the darkness there is nothing left for me. Nothing left in this lifeless human shell. I willingly gave myself to it and I must suffer the consequences.
I just had a very…existential moment.For a moment my life vanished. All of my memory was gone and all I could think was…well I am not really sure. I am terribly confused because I am not sure what I am feeling. I know my stomach is turning and I feel as though I may be sick, but I cannot tell you what this sensation is. I feel like I am breathing fresh air. Like I am being given a clean start. Even though it is close to freezing outside, I feel as though it is one of those spring days when the whole world feels right. Like clean sheets hanging on a clothesline being dried by a pleasant breeze. Like that one song I had on repeat the summer that I was 12. Like Easter when Mom would open all of the windows in the house while she was cleaning. Like those late nights in the summer when we were in elementary school. I am so terribly confused because these are all of the best feelings that could ever come to mind, but I feel so unsteady. Tears are steadily streaming down my face and they have no intention of stopping. This isn’t one of those reminiscing moments. I have had those. I know what those feel like. This is not that. I feel like my soul is somewhere else. I do not feel like me. I do not know where I have gone. The worst part of having these feelings at 3 am is that there is no one to talk to about them. I am on my own. It is so hard to write what I am feeling when I don’t even know. All I know is that tonight my hip isn’t going to be enough.
I have spent a very long time trying to pull myself out of that dark corner of my mind. Years of dipping my feet into the water as the shadows entangle themselves around my ankles barely able to resist the temptation to pull me in. And sometimes there was no resistance. Some days I was pulled into the deep end with no strength to fight back. But as the tide began to lower, I found the ability to pull myself out of the shallow. for a little while, the dark pool had dried up. there was no more lake of tainted water. Just the stains left on the empty pit. It was gone and my mind was left peaceful. Today, It overflowed. the pool filled back up faster and darker than ever. This time I didn’t have to go to the water, it came to me. Its hunger reached for me and yanked me to the bottom. My arms and legs flailing. My lungs pounding, begging for someone to pull me out, but no one can see. No one can see the chains clasped around my ankles, the ropes around my wrists, causing them to bleed. No one can see the blood-soaked sleeves of my shirt, the water pouring into my lungs. They don’t see anything because the shadow forces my smile. My smile is a cloak hiding my pain from the outer world. I have tried everything I have ever know to escape from this hell, but its hold is stronger than it has ever been. I can no longer breath. My lungs are being flooded with the darkness from that corner of my mind. I am slowly, painfully drowning in my own thoughts, my own fear. I was a fool to think I could ever escape this. I was a fool to think the shadows wouldn’t someday take over my entire mind, my entire body. My blood is polluted with the corrupt emotions my mind is feeding me. My blood is begging to be spilled. Begging to be released from my body. I am begging to be released. I am afraid where this might end.
I drink in the world. Moment by moment I soak it all in through the wounds it has given me. I see the world like a passer by sees someone else’s life. I am always looking in. I see the pain. I see the happiness. I see the anger in every one else. I sit on the sidelines to watch how their life plays out. It could be me avoiding my own stage, but I would rather watch someone else’s success than my own. I would rather listen to their voices than have one of my own. A long time ago, mine was stolen. Stolen by the ones that caught my words as they crossed the threshold of my lips into the frozen air. They held them in their palms as they decided whether to warp them to their benefit or to crush them into nothing more iportant than the dust settling on your picture frame. You have given me a reason not to be a reason. I only gave you the most beautiful words that my mouth could form in hopes that they would heal the wounds on your skin. The wounds that only turned out to be a reflection of my own. You projected my pain onto your body because you knew I could not avoid the attempt to heal. I gave myself, all of myself, away. To the many that could not fill themselves. Now I am left with the draining effects. Their is no more love to distribute nor feelings to play host for an unwelcome heart. I gave you mine to be an additional link on the chains binding yours together. By the time I realized that I was only giving you the armor to shield yourself you had already begun to scavenge through my body’s foundation brick by brick. I gave myself to you and you only kept taking.
Its presence haunts me. Like the wounds it causes. Every move you make is a reminder of its company. I have not looked at it for a very long time. For the last time I did, it almost cost me my life. The weight of it stings my skin with just the thought. I have not looked at it in a very long time but for some reason I cannot let it go. I picture it my head resting in the small container holding it. Confining its power so it cannot weild me. But still, my mind is constricted with the thought. Darkness spilling out of gaping veins that it has yet to open. My body shakes with the expectance of what might happen if my head cannot resist the thought of its cold touch. The same cold touch that freezes everything with in me. The same cold touch that causes me to solidify like a sculpture made of ice, shattered with a simple touch, that melts from its fractures. My eyes cannot shift from the memories it has left on my body. My fingers run over the white lines and I read their stories like brail. There is a feeling of absence when their is no irritated lines to break up the picture. There is a feeling of emptiness when there is numbness in the skin that is a product of my past. There is and urge to reach for the light that reflects off of it. But my skin begins to itch because it knows what is coming. My eyes fill with the clouds I have stolen from the sky to fill my soul and I can no longer see the outline of my own hand. My body fights the war that I have put it through. Though it knows that when the battle begins my mind will win. This is not a beautiful story. This story ends in blood soaked soil drowning me when I cross the battlefeild. This story is not beautiful. Because my body’s screams are like the screaching of tires across the hard asphalt. My sunken in cheeks consume the rest of my face. My feet refuse to carry a cavernous body that has become a home for the mosters within it. I am fighting against my own body and we all know what that leads to. No metaphor can make that hole 6 feet deep any prettier than the insects already decorating its walls.
All I wanted was to be wanted. To feel like I was important to someone. And I still do, but I am comfortable with myself to not need someone’s attention to function. I was wallowing in my self-pity and I thought the only way to not be lonely was for people to pay attention to me, and trust me, I have manipulated myself to be able to get exactly that, but I am finally pulling myself out of that dark hole of despair. The best part is that as soon as I can finally do that for myself, someone decides to prohibit my progression. I wanted you to need me and you didn’t, but as soon as I can move on, you say you need me. If your goal wasn’t to drag me right back into that wretched confinement you are doing a horrendous job of showing it. It feels like every time I am ready to walk away you pull me back and I am forced to start from the beginning all over again. I am exhausted with your endless games and I would just like to take a rest. Stop using me then throwing me away. I know after this you are going to push me back to the side like you always have and I am going to wait there patiently until I am just ready to fix myself. Which will be conveniently right before you “need” me again. I am so over being used. Like I said before, I will not stress my life to be a crutch for yours.
I have been reading a lot lately. It is always a bad idea. You see, when I read books I get it this terrible mood that leads to me sinking back into that endless abyss. Books are supposed to be an escape right? Well, that is what it is for me, but only for a little while. I become so invested in the story. I feel everything the character is feeling as if I am them as if I am experiencing everything they are. I become so invested that I cannot think of anything else. My mind can only focus on the story and the emotions of this book. While I am reading the book, it isn’t such a bad thing, but when the book ends so do I. I am left empty because the book drained me of all feeling. I don’t think it would be so bad but I have realized that I feel. I feel so hard and with everything I have. I hurt myself because I feel everything so damn much. I am drained of everything I am and it is kept in little places of my life that I can never reach. I think that is the biggest thing people do not understand about me so they don’t know how to treat me. That is why am always the one that ends up hurt in the end.
Life is strange when you have moved on. When you don’t get that feeling when you text someone. When you don’t constantly have one person on your mind. My mind is always running and my heart keeps fluttering but simply for the reason that it just wants to. My body is not reacting to my feelings toward a person any longer. Though it may sound nice, it kind of sucks. You don’t have those little conversations to look forward to. You don’t get those random smiles when you open your phone. Your heart no longer skips a beat when your phone vibrates. Though I have never been happier, I feel slightly empty. I feel as though a part of me is missing. My heart is aching for someone to love. My heart can never be satisfied.
It’s like we never stopped talking. I never realized how much I missed you until I had you back. I have felt so broken for so long but for this moment, this moment talking to you, I feel whole. My life is a constant blur of unsure happenings that I cannot seem to get ahold of. But when I am talking to you the world slows down for a second and I can breathe. I am happy with you. I thought I might be in love with you, but I do not really know what the feeling is. All I know is your were my best friend and my life is better with you in it. I will not lose you again. I will hold tighter to you than I have held on to anyone because I know what it is like to not have you and it hurts like hell. I don’t want to go through that ever again.