Rant

I’m so tired of being alive. But it’s like I don’t even belong in death. Like I could never deserve such a privilege. I’m stuck, in between life and death and no matter how exhausted I am, I just seem to go on like a curse inside of me. I just want to lay down, crash and never wake up. But every single morning, my eyes open and my conscious never stops murmuring words here and there. So many years have passed now but it’s all so confusing to me, cause my memories are all a blurry haze and I keep forgetting to dislike the constant lump in my throat. What am I doing? I don’t know. I don’t cut anymore, it’s pointless to me. I don’t burn anymore, it doesn’t keep me going anymore and anyway, I haven’t got any energy or scream left for it. My room’s a mess and I’ve got band rehearsal tomorrow but I’ve barely touched my bass or music sheets. I’ve got my piano performance this Thursday but I haven’t practised all week and my teachers keep telling me that I might not pass year 9 but all I am is tired. I find myself staring off into the distance, like the hours are going to pass by, like they used to. But I can’t tell anymore. I’m always eating, drinking, working and sleeping like a normal person but it doesn’t quite feel the same. I feel sick, when I drink and I have to shove the food into my mouth like a pig just to force myself to swallow and when I work I have to loose myself like a workaholic trying to rub out the pain and when I sleep I have to work out just before so that my adrenaline is so high that it blocks out any possible thoughts or anxieties. It’s on the weekends, that I can just be okay. That I can be selfish. That I’ll sleep all day to avoid the sun and at night I’ll find either the most funniest or depressing stuff on the internet possible and stay there for the next few hours. My life is good, but I am poison I could swear. I just wish, that people despised my guts so I could just kill myself without being so fucking selfish and I wish… I don’t know. I’m stable and unstable at the same fucking time. My art teacher told us the other day that there are two wolves fighting inside of us. One is vile, selfish, miserable and aggressive whilst the other is kind, selfless, happy and calm. He said that it’s up to us which one to feed, but that the one we feed, will be the one that wins. We wrote down which wolf we wold feed. I called the vile, selfish, miserable and aggressive wolf Angst and the kind, selfless, happy and calm wolf I called Serenity. I wrote down that I would feed Serenity. But I lied. Because to be honest I don’t know which one I even want to feed let alone the one I actually am or will feed.

You know, it’s kind of funny how, just last year I was in the fucking hospital after another suicide attempt with doctors and therapists interrogating me and now just this year I’m ranting on about wolves inside of me to the internet. I swear I’m just living off meds now.