Just ramblings, don’t feel obliged to read :)

I wish I could live inside one of my daydreams, live inside a song, or a picture, or something that isn’t this. It’s fucking miserable. I wake up and immediately feel like my heart has been crippled by some horrible creature that delights in my sick torment. Waking up is shit. That slow return to consciousness, where you slowly realise you have to face all this torment another day, knowing that that day could contain any number of traps that might wound you. Either cutting deep with a sharp slicing pain, or bruising you with a dull thud. A bruise on top of another bruise, a cut intersecting with another cut. You don’t know what it will be when you wake up, you just know it will be something.

Getting dressed and getting breakfast is difficult, because this is when you think out your day, thinking of ways you may be able to minimise pain, thinking of ways to survive. Just thinking about this hurts, looking in the mirror first, having to remember if you’ve taken your medication hurts, because it reminds you you’re relying on the unreliable pills to save you, and so far they have only disappointed. This inspires more pessimism. Also, at this time of day you have the whole day ahead of you, which means you have a whole period of suffering ahead of you. This early stage when I eat my breakfast therefore means that I’m also bracing myself, trying to tense my muscles before the pain hits.

This continues, throughout the day, a cycle of bracing and then enduring. Over and over, slightly different each time, but all cruel enough on their own. Adding to the horridness is that each bruise and each cut that is left on me makes me feel shame. Deep shame. Shame where I am repulsed by myself, where my mind flashes pictures of me being physically harmed just so I can feel some inner vindication, the equivalent of winning an argument in my head, a part of me wants these things to happen to me, it feels just. Everyone I see reminds me of this shame, just by being connected to my life in some way. They didn’t think I’d turn out this way, and they have no clue what I’ve been through. They think they do, they tell me they do, but their words and actions betrays their perceptions. They have no idea, how could they. I just wish they accepted they cannot understand my suffering, rather than feel than assuming they do. Perhaps this would make my shame a bit less deep, but I know it is not them that is at fault, not really.

But the shame leads me to think of who I am, for any feeling so strong makes you questions its source; why it is there. This leads me to immediately remember a number of steps and missteps, all which harmed me in some way, all which contributed to this suffering. I wish I could do things differently, it’s my second preference to having never been made to exist at all, but these regrets only deepen the shame.

Then as the day goes on I may have a major spell of fear or depression, or maybe both. Sometimes I’ll let others see it in me, because I hate the deception of hiding it. But other times the shame will be too much, and I’ll hide away, or hide behind a neutral expression, the muscles in my face pulled so tight it feels like they will tear. The amount of times I’ve held back tears infront of others I have simply not been able to count. The amount of times I have wanted to scream in anguish because of the unbearable nature of the pain is even more. These spells are so unbelievable intense, the pain so strong. They make me want to strip the skin from my bones, just to have something distract me. I fear in these times I appear pathetic, or overdramatic, but the internal pain is far more dramatic than anything I could show,

And then comes night, where I have to think about going to sleep, wondering what situation I’ll wake up in. Will it be the usual shit, or will it be worse. Will it be something that defies my understanding of how bad pain can get? It has happened before, and only left me wishing I had been dead before having to endure the experience. I go to sleep fearing that, and then the cycle resets. It will be slightly different the next day, maybe dramatically different if I wake up in the middle of one of the horrible situations. I hope for the former, for they are the only two options.