I'm sitting here feeling shit right now. There's only so many times one can say no to cutting, and even then I don't even really want to do it, I don't think. I just want to feel a bit better. And yes, I think that that will help. I just want to feel different from the way I do now. I want to be different from the desolate emptiness that is eating me inside. There can't be much more inside left to eat, surely? Yet there always seems to be a little bit more, and a little bit more and yes, a little bit more. All the time things are changing, I'm changing. Yet I'm the same. Different, but familiar. Empty, buyt somehow whole.
How? I don't want to feel. I'm tired of feeling. When does the healing start? When do I forget? When does it hurt less? When do I smile? When am I free? When can I finally say that I'm free? How much longer do my demons get to hold me captive in their cage? Why are there no answers to these questions?
People always say to me "you know you can talk to me, if you want". They say that because they can see a little bit. There's something in my manner, my eyes, the way I talk, feel, the attitude I carry into a room on bad days that people feel confident enough to, you know, guess. They're expecting something little. Nothing of the gravity I could tell them. Oh no. In their little bubbles its all good and well, they don't get touched by these demons. These creatures of hell. Nothing tortures their brains like this, compels them to contemplate life and death, self mutilate in the hope that it makes it better -- even if its only for a time. No, nothing like that.
And I wouldn't do it to them anyway. They can't understand. Try as they might, they can't. They don't live the nightmare. They don't see the world the way I do.
So yes, I'm sitting here. Alone. The TV is on, its playing Grey's Anatomy. I know its an earlier season because Burke is still in the show. George's Dad is a day away from surgery. Izzy has an $8million cheque. Such small insignificant details. Not even distracting. Barely detracting from the whirl of thoughts that are circulating inside. Threatening to overthrow whatever sanity I have left.
What even brought this on? What tipped me over? What if I've been tipped over for awhile, I just haven't noticed because I've muted it. How did I mute it? I know I muted it. I didn't hear. I didn't hear the hate. I didn't hear the doubt. I didn't even hear the disapproval. My mind said nothing. The silence was almost comforting. Distracted by trivial issues. So what switch was tripped to wake the dragon?
More questions, no answers. More pain, nothing to sooth. Just me. Just my mind. And the demon. Depression. Anxiety. So many more. Maybe I should refer to it as Legion. It seems to be many.
I'm quite lost in it all. It's scary. Where's the comfort? I want to talk to someone, but who? I don't want to feel guilty by waking someone up. People need to sleep. I need to sleep. But I'm in overdrive. Flitting around my brain, working on compromises. Trying to sooth. To smooth. To settle. Failing. I'm just lost. I am so, so lost.
I don't want to do this anymore. This is ridiculous. Why am I still here? Why can't I die? Fade away. Cease to exist. Stop causing myself and everyone else pain. It's like living in a pressure cooker and not knowing when its going to blow. I can sense my desperation, because I'm thinking it. I don't know if the writing reflects it. The writing is just mumbo jumbo anyway. All the mumbo jumbo that crosses the forefront of my mind and ends up on this screen.
I'm too scared to die.
That's it. That's all that stands between me and that. Fear. Fancy that, I'm human. I'm scared of something. A fatal chink in my armour. Though, not fatal enough to kill me. Disappointing. Of everything I could fear I fear the act. Second biggest fear? Living forever. In seventeen years I've run intro countless dilemmas, imaging what the next x amount of years will bring? No, don't imagine that. Anything but that. Maybe I'll die anyway. Each new condition bring me closer, does it not? Oh I am a sick, sick person. Tired, lost and confused. Stop the world, stop it. I want to get off. I want to get off now. I've had enough, I'm done. Game over.
- Sky
Sunday, 30 October 2011
Monday, 24 October 2011
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard.
If anyone had told me just how hard it would get, I don't think I'd have stuck it out this long. But no one did tell and here I am writing this now. I cannot count the times I have started and deleted this particular post. There is so much I want to say and yet I find myself quite unable to express it. I currently feel like an unsettled ball of emotion who will explode sooner or later, the great mystery is which emotion will burst out dominantly. I don't suppose it particularly matters to me which emotion leads the charge, but it probably matters to everyone else. But I'm not everyone else and as such I return to it not really mattering.
I am quite over school. Term four has only gone for two weeks and I've decided that I just want it to be exams so that its all over already. I no longer have any desire to be there and I just want it to be summer to I can do whatever I want, and more importantly, when I want. I think that largely thanks to my school holidays experience, I'm missing my time with the horses more than ever. I ended up working consecutive days for three quarters of my holidays and as tiring as it was, I loved every second of it and in hindsight would not trade that experience for a thing. It wasn't about the money, it was about being closed to the animals I love. They become such a huge and irreplaceable part of your life that you miss them very quickly. It was wonderful to speak to a friend of mine who also works in the industry and hear that he had sentiments that equaled mine. He ensured that I feel somewhat more normal than I did before. Racing may be foreign to my school based friends, but to my friends across the racing industry it is everything. And everything because we love it. He told me that he couldn't go two weeks without them and that the day after he graduated high school he was at track work. That is exactly what will happen to me this time next year when I graduate. I will be up bright and early the next morning at track work doing something I enjoy. He couldn't imagine not being around the racers and frankly, neither can I.
You have no idea how amazing it was to hear that. For such a long time I've been made to feel weird. On some level I've always known that the strappers and riders are in it for love, but to hear someone so close to my age voice it was something else entirely. We live and breathe it. We cannot walk away. We got hooked in every sense of the word.
And as such, I am quite unable to put up with school. It bores me to tears. Especially with coursework winding to a close and revision becoming the mandate I cope less and less. You either give me direction or let me idle. Obviously, I will choose to idle, so the ball is definitely in the court of everyone else. As far as I'm concerned the sooner exams roll around the better. But of course, just before I start exams I'll start roaccutane. The closer I get to that time, the more I start to wonder if I'm doing the right thing. But right or wrong its the only option I have left. I'm not doing another fourteen years of acne, that's insane. I couldn't do it. That might actually be the last straw. So right of wrong, I'm going to go through with this one and hopefully stick it out to the end provided the side effects don't get my first.
And of course, there are no guarantees in life. Why should there be? Life is its own comical genius, toying with us at its leisure. Torturing the seemingly strong. Straying the good from their paths. Causing chaos as it pleases. A stage perfectly prepared for disaster. So what is one more life lost.
- Sky
If anyone had told me just how hard it would get, I don't think I'd have stuck it out this long. But no one did tell and here I am writing this now. I cannot count the times I have started and deleted this particular post. There is so much I want to say and yet I find myself quite unable to express it. I currently feel like an unsettled ball of emotion who will explode sooner or later, the great mystery is which emotion will burst out dominantly. I don't suppose it particularly matters to me which emotion leads the charge, but it probably matters to everyone else. But I'm not everyone else and as such I return to it not really mattering.
I am quite over school. Term four has only gone for two weeks and I've decided that I just want it to be exams so that its all over already. I no longer have any desire to be there and I just want it to be summer to I can do whatever I want, and more importantly, when I want. I think that largely thanks to my school holidays experience, I'm missing my time with the horses more than ever. I ended up working consecutive days for three quarters of my holidays and as tiring as it was, I loved every second of it and in hindsight would not trade that experience for a thing. It wasn't about the money, it was about being closed to the animals I love. They become such a huge and irreplaceable part of your life that you miss them very quickly. It was wonderful to speak to a friend of mine who also works in the industry and hear that he had sentiments that equaled mine. He ensured that I feel somewhat more normal than I did before. Racing may be foreign to my school based friends, but to my friends across the racing industry it is everything. And everything because we love it. He told me that he couldn't go two weeks without them and that the day after he graduated high school he was at track work. That is exactly what will happen to me this time next year when I graduate. I will be up bright and early the next morning at track work doing something I enjoy. He couldn't imagine not being around the racers and frankly, neither can I.
You have no idea how amazing it was to hear that. For such a long time I've been made to feel weird. On some level I've always known that the strappers and riders are in it for love, but to hear someone so close to my age voice it was something else entirely. We live and breathe it. We cannot walk away. We got hooked in every sense of the word.
And as such, I am quite unable to put up with school. It bores me to tears. Especially with coursework winding to a close and revision becoming the mandate I cope less and less. You either give me direction or let me idle. Obviously, I will choose to idle, so the ball is definitely in the court of everyone else. As far as I'm concerned the sooner exams roll around the better. But of course, just before I start exams I'll start roaccutane. The closer I get to that time, the more I start to wonder if I'm doing the right thing. But right or wrong its the only option I have left. I'm not doing another fourteen years of acne, that's insane. I couldn't do it. That might actually be the last straw. So right of wrong, I'm going to go through with this one and hopefully stick it out to the end provided the side effects don't get my first.
And of course, there are no guarantees in life. Why should there be? Life is its own comical genius, toying with us at its leisure. Torturing the seemingly strong. Straying the good from their paths. Causing chaos as it pleases. A stage perfectly prepared for disaster. So what is one more life lost.
- Sky
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