The loss is mine, I feel as though the disease has won…if it’s even at fault for all that’s happened. I can’t tell anymore if there was ever a true control or hold over it…maybe I’ve always been this way. The labels, the meds, the treatment…maybe they’re just the side effects of never truly belonging in the first place.
To feel numb and hollow. To feel like every other emotion other than a negative one is forced. A fake. When all you can feel is the sense of wallowing because its already wrapped itself around your being. Dragging you into some dark murk that fills your lungs, heart beats too fast it feels like bursting. You keep swallowing hard but there’s a burning in your chest and a voice that whispers soothingly, ‘if you let it..it could all be over without any more trouble. ‘
I’ve grown used to their presence, they’re always around. Just when I get a glimmer of hope it all comes down burning. It drags the shame in any sharp enough object against skin that already has a hard time healing. It makes a sense of uncare when others try to help. Anger and violence flaring at any attempt and only drives those who do away. I’m alone with the exception of voices. They call out, sing and scream…so terrifying some experiences are I’ve tried to block them out with the sound of my head against the wall but even still they persist. I thought pushing it aside wpuld help, even giving medicine a chance to numb it all away.
It lingers, it burns on edge with an overwhelming amount of anxiety. My body rattles and shakes. Never being able to sit still, panic builds up driving to an impulse decision. I’ve crossed lines and I’ve crossed states all to run from something I can never truly escape. I cant escape myself. I am my own downfall. I have lost in this game. I don’t belong and I try to fight it but why? When this aching feeling comes so naturally? Why fight it at all…how long will the next momentary happiness last till I jeopardize it again.