Mary Oliver, Here’s my puny but precious life…

“Tell me, what it is you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? “Mary Oliver

Well Mary, I can’t say there’s much I’ve already done with my one wild and precious life for I’m just twenty three as of a month ago. But let’s say it ‘s all the life I’ll ever get to live. Let’s picture this as the only life I’ve lived and that be enough. We may as well not plan for a future that’s yet to be lived, am I right? So for my puny little life, I will have quite the childhood. I’ll try to find the words to sum it all up but I’ll always come up short. It will be a mesh of a little bit of everything; it will not have been the best years of my life but it will be the years I’ll wish to have held onto more. It will be the years I should never have taken for granted, but still somewhat did. As a kid, I’ll be my best version of prime & proper, at least to the world I’ll try to be. Back at my house, I’ll be the biggest pain in the ass and my arch nemesis will be none other than my dear ole mum, God bless her soul… She’ll take the blunt end of my onset of puberty and will match my energy of being a serious pain in the ass. But despite it all, I’ll adore her existence like that of a god. She’ll be to me like every mother is to their child, their first god and their lifeline. I will not realize just how much the world is unfair to you until the day my lifeline will be taken away from me. Simply, I will learn of one of life’s toughest experiences which will alter the entire basis and trajectory of my life.

Like it is for most people, those lucky enough to have the blessing of family, I’ll live for my family. With one sibling and a single father, I’ll pour out every bit of love in me to them, which now that I think about it, might explain why it will be hard to love anyone else with the intensity and magnitude that some will seek from me. I will adore my family and be in their embrace through every day spent of my puny but precious little life. My dad will be that friend you can’t quite get enough of but still gets annoying every so often. He’ll have my back always and I’ll grow to protect him to the best of my little ability. As for my sister, she will be my best friend, my companion, my roommate and my all rounded life partner. We won’t have much of separate lives since we will be often together too much of the time. She will be my provider for quite the while and I’ll ride it out till what I hope will be the start of my own adulthood. She’ll complain I eat a lot but continue to feed me regardless. What can I say Mary, a girl’s gotta eat to grow. Sometimes indulging into her cravings a little bit more than she should. All my life’s significance, regardless of whether puny or not, my sister will be there for them. She’ll cheer me on and help me brush of the dust from the times I’ll have fall off my feet. She’ll vicariously live through me in my relationship escapades for they will be quite a few… Mary, you may be quite surprised by just how much I’ve experienced in the realm of “love”…I will trust no one more than I trust her and I’m uncertain I’ll ever know what it’s like to have anyone closer to me than her.

I will go through highschool and regard it as the worst years of my life. I’ll hate every day of those agony ridden days. I’ll want to escape to my dreams every day of my life for those four years and I’ll have my heart broken by the impossibility of my dreams ever coming true. I will peg on God to pay His dues to me even despite knowing deep down, He owed me nothing. I’ll walk down the streets of my school every evening looking up at the stars and hoping against everything that the brightest star of all will mean my redemption from my misery. It will surprise me that despite feeling incapable of feeling anything else besides sorrow, I’ll grow to love a girl immensely in the midst of it all. I’ll use her as a distraction from my grief but then, my emotions towards her will envelope me like a dome. She will eventually become all I’ll ever think of in those years and even a few years after that. I will feel hate and this wildly twisted obsession over her that will force me to think again over what I thought I knew about my sexuality. She’ll become the true bane to my existence and I will not know till date whether it was all just a projection of my grief or I just had the worst case of adolescence. Even later in life, I will still regard this girl as quite the enigma. I will have gotten better reins of my emotions when it comes to her but traces of her will still linger and hover over my conscience. I will complete highschool with the passion to charge the world. I will have my dreams hanging from my shoulders and what will then be a well sort out plan to kick start the dreams into motion. I will then learn that it’s a lot harder than I might have thought. My passions and my sorrow will set sail my career into psychology.

I will go through college and have quite the silent rollercoaster. Silent because not a lot of people can attest to anything major happening in my life but it being a rollercoaster because I certainly will have my fair share of things happen in those years. I will loose my virginity in college, and it won’t be memorable. It will not mean much and neither will it be some instrumental rite of passage for me. It will happen and I won’t care to much over it… that’s all that will be to it. I will have boyfriends, and a man-child friend too. My first relationship will be, for lack of a better word, meh. Though at the beginning, I wouldn’t have considered it so, for I will have wanted more from it. It will be based on sex marathons and on and off breaks. In time, it will be the trigger to a very uneventful onset of my first depression. It will kick-start a tirade of emotions, downhill turmoils and a whole lot of anxiety. It’s in college where my battles with mental health will become the fore front of my life. Depression will become my shadow and I will loose recognition of myself without it…Before I can even delve further into what my life will become in regards to my mental health, let me tell you about the man friend I will be crazy enough to date… It will also be in my early twenties, when I’ll have my interest picked on matters BDSM. In the case you’re not aware Mary, this is a kink in sex for those who are unconventionally woke. It will be in my venture of this kink that will lead me to meeting and somewhat dating a man-child who will then be 44 at the time. I know what you’re probably thinking but trust me, at the time it won’t seem as absurd as it might now. He will at the beginning feel like a breath of fresh air (no pun intended in regards to him being old and all..) and I will be enthralled by him and his take on the world. His bluntness will at the start look like something to be admired but it will soon wither in my eyes for it will not go unnoticed to me how emotionally dry he will be. As he himself will say, “I’ve got the emotional depth of a pin cushion”. I consider myself lucky for I will actually know what a pin cushion is like. After that, we will end things between me and this man but we will keep in touch and that will be a mistake I will soon learn dearly from.

I will go through life one day at a time…I will experience a mental agony that nothing will have ever prepared for me. I will learn to cope with this said agony in ways that will leave permanent scars, both on my skin and on my mind. I will still continue to dream and be a little girl on the inside. I will go through life plagued with anxiety that I’m never doing enough, that I’m not the best at anything that I do. I will still keep trying regardless, even when I will want to choose death over life. As I said earlier Mary, my life is still puny and hasn’t matured as much so there’s only so little I can tell you of how my life turns out… I will try my best to write more of how my life goes, maybe when I’m thirty, I will write this again. I will to you how my puny but precious wild life will have gone down. Hopefully, it won’t be so puny anymore.

“Inspired from the book ” It’s okay to laugh ,crying is cool too” I haven’t even completed it yet but I’m sure it’ll be a wonderful read.

I’ll try keep this as short as I can cause honestly, I don’t know where I’m going with this…I just know that I’m in the middle of chaos that I need to find a way or a means out of. When I feel like I’ve probably felt enough in conjunction to how low my mental struggles can take me, I’m reminded that I’m falling into a bottomless pit. Honestly, I’m at a war and I can’t ascertain to whether I’m winning or losing. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, it always feels like I’m drowning but the difference this time round is that something keeps pushing me further down into the water ; I’m suffocating on the chaos that’s raging in me. I’m battling as it is to simply put to words how much turmoil I’m feeling but I feel like the harder I try to emerge out of it, the harder it is getting for me to breathe…like I’m having a panic attack but nobody else can see it cause it’s behind my eyes. Even as I write this, my breathing is laboured & I honestly just wish I could scream out the turmoil. The scariest thing out of all of this, I don’t know why I’m drowning…Tonight I’d have stopped the chaos, even if it’s just for a little while. I wanted to, I had every intention to. Sadly, in the only way I know how. Depression for me is taking an entirely new height..one I’m not sure I’ve been to before. One that’s paralyzing and crippling; I don’t know how to calm the hell that is coursing through me. I feel psychotic cause the world around seems entirely oblivious to the war that’s waging in my mind. I’m a breathing shell of the person I’m meant to be. I wanted to hurt myself, it was the plan a few minutes ago but somewhere along the line, I’m convinced it truly won’t make a difference. I no longer seek pity or remorse over the fact that I cope the way I do. Self harm keeps me more alive than I can attest to. It may be just another slash to my wrist or another scar to the collection but it’s sadly how chaos has me surviving. I don’t want to die but my spirit might not be strong enough to pull through this battle. It’s petrifying to think that there just might not be a way out of this. If I could choose death tonight, it would be outta of the utter helplessness that is coursing through me at this very moment. The feeling of having no hope whatsoever is like a blanket wrapped tightly around me to the point of slowly suffocating every bit of air inside me. I want to pick myself up from this shackles tied around my mind, I just truly don’t know if I’m strong enough to break free. Where would I even start? My spirit feels a lot like its been trampled over, fully decimated. I’ve got no hope & will left in me. The light in me is slowly dwindling. Your probably wondering why can’t I ask for help. It’s hard to see hope from others when it’s pretty non existent in yourself. Not to sound ungrateful but I don’t believe there’s much anyone could do for me anymore. At least not until I find strong enough will to help me back up & help myself fight for my better state of mind.

I always thought that the reason I felt the most motivated to write is when I was down..well, I’m here to correct that because I can say with enough conviction that I’ve never been lower in my life than I am now. I thought that the depression I felt before was severe , I was wrong. It’s been fifteen days since I started taking antidepressants and let me say, I’ve been on a rollercoaster that’s borderlined insanity for me. I have never felt more alone, hollow & hopeless like I have this past two weeks. I was forced to stare at the ugliness of what depression can really put one through and let me say, it’s nothing less than hideous. It’s showed me how dreadful it is & sunk me deeper into it in a way I have never felt. I am guessing y’all are wondering why I’m saying this when antidepressants are meant to make things easier.. I thought the same too until they were finally in my system and it’s been chaos ever since .Nobody coached me on what it would mean to be under antidepressants. For starters, I’m so sad right now & about every other minute I am alone with my mind. This is the kind of sadness that’s brought me to the brim of looking at a life without myself in existence. It has made me contemplate how irrelevant my existence is and how much right now I feel more of a burden than a relevant human being. I’ve isolated myself from everyone cause I am just not sure anybody is ready to see how damaged I am or how broken I’ve gotten . I’m a shell of the already messed up person I was before. The constant darkness surrounding my mind, my thoughts & feelings is enough to darken a galaxy. I knew well enough that I’d feel numb when taking antidepressants but it’s not the nice kind ,this one suffocates you and wrings the ever living life outta you.Nobody mentioned the crazy mood swings that I’ve gotten to feel first hand…The bouts of anger that sprout out of nowhere and cripple me from having any interaction with anyone in the fear I’ll blow up on them. There are moments when I am not sure whether I’m feeling at all. It’s forcing me to push people away so that I’ll not have to tangle them along in my misery. All to the moments when all I can think about is the rippling feeling of a blade on my skin that’s akin to a breathe of fresh air in my lungs. Honestly I don’t think there’s much good that’s come from taking this meds, or better yet, I’m just too broken to be fixed...and finally, the weight gain. I was scared of that when I first heard I’d be going under antidepressants and I can confirm that my fears about it were valid. I’m too scared to know how much weight I’ve gained over those two weeks cause despite the constant darkness surrounding my mind, I can’t seem to shake off the constant hunger this medicine has brought about. I’m nearly constantly hungry half the time I’m awake which is a symptom of the precise medicine I’m taking. I thought I could have a hold on it and eat moderately but it’s hard, I swear it’s hard. If I could rip this urge out, I would but again, I don’t know where to start. I’m just so tired. I’m exhausted mentally, physically and emotionally. I’m drained from the mere struggle it is to have the will to live & simply survive. I am not writing this for pity, I very well don’t need it. I just wish I could have someone who understands exactly what it’s like for me right now, someone who isn’t just seeing this but is looking at this and listening to what it is I’m relaying. I just need one person to tell me it’s not over for me yet…

I mourn a lot, or maybe I should say I’m always mourning. I don’t mean the bitching kind… No.. I mean the kind where I’m a wreck & constantly tearing myself into wretched pieces… I’ve grown to revel in the pain it gives me. The self pity and the constant swirl of heartwretching emotion is the most I ever get to feel. So in some sense, I’m grateful.I wouldn’t call it normal. Not at all. I hate the thought that it would be normal for everyone else. It’s my specialty ; my light, the one thing I’m honestly very protective of. It’s my defining factor. Makes me my own special little girl. I’m stuck in the realms of a fourteen year old & an incredibly fucked up twenty-one year old…and maybe I’m okay with it. Being stuck that is. Or maybe I’m not okay with it & I’m just sick. I really can’t tell anymore.Do you know why I mourn? It keeps those I love with me, even despite the fact that I can no longer be with them. It’s a lot like when one misses a friend or a lover who isn’t there at that particular moment. I just like missing my loved ones with the surrounding pain their absence gives me. I like to completely drown in & feel it cause it’s all I feel I have of them. Maybe a lot of people feel the same but I honestly rather not know if that’s the case. I’m selfish when it comes to letting go. Why the fuck would I wanna let go? I’ve lived torn apart since I can remember, why would I wanna let go of all that I’ve known…‘ love, time, death… Let’s begin now… …’ I’m still very much a fourteen year old little girl who’s definition of pain no longer means struggling for air, no, she had the air knocked right out of her lungs & her heart slowly twisted out from its cage. Let’s not forget, I’m still very much the twenty one year old girl as well, the one who misses having a best friend to talk to. Still the very same girl yearning to have a fairy tale romance to sorta neutralise things in her life. Yeah ,still pretty much all that. But I’ll always be mourning, forever probably. Maybe, I’ll just learn to not show it out so often.P. S I don’t write this for any sense of pity. On the contrary, that’s the least of my intentions.

I probably should not apologize but I really have this insistent need in me to say sorry for how depressing I make whoever reads my blogs. I can officially say I’m currently on the train to depressed ville. I wanna blame it on the quarantine and the covid -19 but I’m beginning to think that maybe it’s a whole lot more than that. I’ve always thought that maybe the true reason I can never seem to get out of my ‘depression haze’ is cause it’s a part of me, that’s it’s a personality…That maybe I was just a melancholic in nature and that’s why I could truly never untangle myself from feeling low every other time. It never once crossed my mind that I could have a condition that has my mind stuck between two mental states …

It truly has me scared now to know what people who’ve read my posts think concerning why every entry of mine is downright depressive to read. I’m sorry. I wish it didn’t matter to me what my readers think about my post but that’s not the case.. I do care that maybe everyone else could see that it’s a whole lot more than just being a melancholic & that maybe I’m just bipolar. There, I’ve said it. I needed to say it to confirm that it’s what that’s been racking my mind. That maybe, just maybe, I’m bipolar.

As a learning counselor psychologist, I should be well aware that self diagnosis is not appropriate but it’s hard when a lot of the signs finally start making themselves clearer to you. I just had a conversation with my therapist and she confirmed to me that it has crossed her mind that I could be it.. I don’t want to say it; feels like if I do I may just be manifesting it. I’m scared shitless with the thought that it could be true. I feel like I’ll loose a whole part of myself that thought that maybe, just maybe I could be ‘normal’. This being in the sense that I won’t have to feel the looming anguish & sadness that’s a hovering cloud in my mind. That I’d finally get over everything that haunts me & live a somewhat happy life. The thought of carrying this for the rest of my life is heartbreaking.

Now, here I am, about to apologize all over again for this not so subtle depressing post. I now have to wait till all this is over so I can see a psychiatrist & confirm if I have it. I truly hope y’all are coping better than I am, I just need to stay mentally afloat & not sink.

After all this time, I cannot pin point of everything that possibly sets my heart on fire. I’m certain though that it should be something that has my heart racing & my adrenaline pumping. At least that’s what I believe I feel when I’m in that head space where I’m peacefully chaotic and excited over an overwhelming feeling. We all have that something that tips you over ;that has you feeling euphoric.

Music sets my heart on fire.. Cliche’ really but I’ve gotta be normal in some form, right?? So yeah… When you get that jam that hits your soul to the root and it just sorta drowns you in it & virtually brings you into a different mental dimension where it’s just you & the lyrics of the song & the rhythm that just makes you feel like you’re floating… We all probably have geners of music we all feel we relate to and that hits different from the rest. Could be rock, indie music, jazz, opera, hip-hop, soul, country …I for sure can drown in country music & aesthetic soul music.. the latter being where I truly feel like I’m in my truest form of nature. Technically, for those who can’t necessarily pin point what kind of music it is I’m rambling about is in lame man’s language, depressing music. Music that mellows one out and has one completely feeling chill & melancholic. Yes, it’s sad but I can’t help myself. 😅

Not to delve further into any the ‘depressive shit’ in my life ..I know I never talk about my canvas often but I love the feeling or in this case, the high I get from getting new ink. It’s euphoric for me to go through the entire process of feeling it skim through my skin and form a beautiful artistic reminder of something significant to me. But for this year, I chose to take a time off on getting anymore ink, for more or less personal reasons…as I said before, there’s not much that I can say truly sets my soul on fire but I’ve come to learn that it doesn’t have to necessarily be common or good. I’ve spoken before about my affiliation to pain and I know it hardly makes sense to anyone. I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s meant to make sense but it sorta does for me. I don’t wanna have to delve into my reasons for why pain doesn’t always have to be wrong. I’ve survived through it, I believe it’s been a part of me long enough for me to say it’s not easy to detach from. It puts me at a crossroads where it’s not easy to feel. It’s heavy, It weighs on you. Then there’s a similar though different part of me that just is drawn to it. It’s a hard concept to wrap around in one’s mind of how anyone would be drawn to it.

Looking at my past now, I understand in my own twisted way why in it’s own sense it’s appealing and such a drowning feeling. This at all isn’t meant to glorify self harm in any shape or form. That is an entirely different spectrum of pain that isn’t pretty & holds no pride at all….Do I wish I didn’t feel this drawn to it, not really. You can call a consolation that those nitty-gritty aspects of myself are what have built the character & personality I have. It may not be conventional or the norm but as the saying goes, normal sucks.

I need to quit trying to find more complicated reasons as to why I’m special. I just fucking am!!!!!!! . I’ll proclaim that here & now when my pheromones aren’t raging depressed so yeah,…Forgive my opening rant and how hard I came off but I’m not honestly sorry since I kinda need to get it out there a lot more often so I don’t have those constant mind relapses that have me thinking I’m anything less than an amazing human being.Woot Woot!! I like the head space I’m at writing this; probably won’t be feeling much of the same in a few minutes but what the heck right? It’s here now, the least I can do is revel in it.

There are days where I’ve thought that I’d need to have a change of scenery for me to feel special and it fails miserably right after I walk out of the door of my destination. It’s such a constant competition with myself to see when I can most please myself & when I can be my greatest Debbie Downer. Even as a child, I always thought that I’d probably get a lot more recognition & affection from others if our life long dream to go to the States came true. Just to answer the possible question in your minds ,that ship sorta sank ages ago. For the longest time I knew I’d stop being invincible the day I boarded that plane to America and I’d never feel anything short of adored. The bummer in this case is two things, first, I never got to go to the states at all, practically grew out of the fantasy that it’d happen & the second is I’m still a thirsty bitch for affection years later. Not sure where the inadequacy for things came up in my life, probably from the one major tragedy of my life *smiling like a creep.

I shouldn’t revel in how fucked up I am but I do.. Gotta problem with it , I don’t give two shits about it.. It’s my specialty. It’s what I’m good at. I hope that one day I’m able to put it to damn good use and probably then, I’ll have a lot of fake love being thrown off in my direction. At least I hope that writing about how effed up things get in my life will have me earning something substantial after I publish a best seller…

Why on earth is getting a baby such a damn expensive deal..!!Don’t judge me for wanting to bring a child into this life but as random as this last paragraph will be, I wanna get a child so bad *cue the fake water works and temper tantrum… Besides my fear that I may not be the best example of a responsible self loving mother ,you know with the cutting and all, God I’m a sorry excuse of a person, I shouldn’t want a child as terribly as I do. Sadly though, I don’t consider myself stupid enough to get knocked up now, I’d have my mum rolling over in her grave, that’s if she’s not already done so with how reckless my life’s gotten…anyway, I plan to feel more special next year. I may not know where to start on it but I’m going to sure as hell try to feel like a substantial human being.

Is it worth it?? That’s what I’m asking myself right now cause I’m in a bubble that’s pretty different from my normal mental darkness . I’m even scared to say the H word cause I may jinx whatever it is that’s happening right now. For those who may not be following up, the H word is happiness in this case. Not too long ago I wrote about how hard it is for me to understand the concept that is happiness and when exactly one can fully say they are happy with everything that’s going on for them. I’m yet to get there….still have a lot of demons who are allergic to anything remotely good for me, therefore tend to bring out my not so favourite friend who goes by the name Anxiety.

Not to dwell too much so not to fuck it up, I’m at a better place than I usually tend to be. Something has changed that I won’t go into but it’s a significant change that’s been happening for me. I’m so worried that I’m being gullible and naive over it and letting my very betrayable feelings guide me in this case. I don’t sit well with change, of whichever kind. Bad change just sort makes things more aggravated for me. Good change is what I fear most. It tends to have your expectations higher and your judgement easily swayed. It never lasts long ; always just a matter of time before the real darkness makes itself known in whatever good change was happening. So change for me simply doesn’t work out the best . I’m transitioning currently & it’s a wild ride that is exciting, exhilarating and a whole lot more fun than I ever have had on any day. Million dollar question ; Is it worth it?

Someone close to me told me that the world doesn’t know how dark and twisted it gets when I am in my lows mentally. The lengths it takes me to pick myself up from the self induced depression and anxiety I struggle with. That’s why it has me thinking, is this sense of joy & contentment worth it, if at all there stands a chance of me completely falling back to my dark place. Could I be convincing myself that it’s not just a matter of time, that whatever I have going on won’t be my ultimate downfall ?That I may finally have my last straw and loose myself in my own demons if things go wrong at the end. Am I able to pull the plug with my mental state in one complete form or will I be in pieces unrecognizable to even myself?

It scares me. Everything downright scares me shitless. On one hand, I don’t want to not live because I wasn’t strong enough to try and fail or try and win. But I’m also not gonna deceive myself by ignoring the fact that I’m not mentally capable like everyone else. My mind doesn’t function like everyone else’s… Will I need two or three more therapists to get me out of my personal mental hell if I continue giving myself a chance to live without the certainty of the consequences of my actions. I have walls built up so high, you’d think I’m a castle… Is it worth it, peeking out to see if I’ll survive beyond the walls that my mind have convinced me are there to protect me despite being well aware I’m a prisoner instead. It’s a hard risk to take….A very dangerous one too. Asking myself how worth it it is may be the wrong question all together… Maybe what I should be asking is if I can handle it whether I’m in it or not.. ?

I had all this planned out in my head & I had the words spilling out of me a second ago, but now I’m pretty sure all my words are out the window. I should probably start by admitting that I’m one walking confusion. I’m worse than a wave because my ‘tide’ just never seems to hit any less harder at any one moment. I don’t have a calm is what I’m trying to say. In less than a week since I wrote, I feel like I’ve felt everything & it’s breaking down my walls. That, is some scary shit right there. I’ve been told time and again how much my walls don’t protect me but instead they cage me in and imprison me. What most people don’t realize, is that I don’t mind being caged if it means I can shield any sort of ‘ray of sunshine ‘ that’s gonna start of nice & calm and in the long run, it’s gonna scotch me just cause I let myself think I deserved it.

I apologize for my sacarstic metaphoric nature here. To down it down a little, what I’m simply trying to say is that over time, I’ve learned to embrace how diversely fucked up I am. Trying to cut myself some slack by thinking I can change that that’s become my nature, only ever does more harm than good. Humans are scared of change. Probably the one other thing I can say I relate to that proves my humanity isn’t all that different from the rest of the human race. I feel like I’m caught between worlds right now. I’m in a realm of my own and in time, I’ll need to jump out of it. I’m just not certain where to jump to and what it might mean for my bleak mind .

Emotions are deceiving. I can honestly say that is one thing I have come to learn the hard way. They blind you from reason, even if it’s right in front of you. I want to jump where my emotions are telling me that the ride of a lifetime is right ahead & maybe, just maybe, in the midst of the black hole I’ve been falling in for so long, there’s some ray of light. But I’m scared, petrified even . Jumping or in this case free falling with the hope of not feeling any more pain is a risk I’m not sure is worth taking. The outstretched hand that is reaching out for me to just grab onto it has me tempted to pee in my knickers… Then there’s the other jump, that really won’t be much of a jump since it won’t need me to leave my ‘prison’. It assures me that I won’t have to feel pain further than I am accustomed to. It assures me that nothing will change. I’ll be behind bars that will close off any scorching rays or unfulfilled hopes of any light at the end of my hollow black 🕳. It assures me no sense of change, cause it’s exactly what I’m afraid of.

I don’t wanna ever say that I failed cause I never gave hope a shot. I don’t know how long I have before I have to jump or before ‘my walls’ are penetrated (oh that sounded so wrong 😬😂) but I know stalling won’t cut it for me. I could either embrace the change and run the risk of completely loosing my mind at the end, or I could live to wonder whether things would have been different if I did jump. I know that outstretched hand won’t always be there, and as much as it scares me to reach out to it, it’s beginning to scare me more to loose it.

This is getting exhausting. I’m all too familiar with this feeling, it’s soon going to drive me to the blink of death. It’s beginning to physically ache me. From the not so subtle tummy aches, to the sleeping too much. That’s when I know I’m drowning all over again. Just when I was beginning to catch a bearing in my sea of monsters, just right when I was rising above the swarm of hands working extra hard to pull me down. Here I am now ,back to feeling broken. Maybe I was just never put together as I thought. It just needed a little nudge to break me further into tinier pieces .

Allow me to make a confirmation here and now. If I never get to figure out what happiness for me will entail, allow me to walk into death at least peacefully. I rot inside each time this tide chooses to hit me every so often. Eventually ,a girl’s gotta give up and quit trying right?! No longer will the nudges from friends hold me together forever. If I can’t fucking stand on my own, when I’m I ever gonna learn how to walk away from this.

Twenty minutes later….

I wanna say I feel a lot more relieved but it’s just the ache in my chest that’s gone. The demons in my head are having a field day since they succeeded .I gave in to what’s become a part of my sad reality. I gave them my pain & my blood. They seem to only feel a sense of satisfaction when I feel a fraction of physical pain. They are appeased when I trade mental calmness for a few drops of my blood through my hands. I’m weak and I know it. I no longer fight it since its my only solace for now. I wish I could quit having “normalcy streaks ” every so often. It would make it less hard for me when my demons awaken. It would lessen my anxiety a notch enough for me to figure my way around it. The sense of normalcy just becomes a mirage since its so tuned out & blurry when my demons awaken. It’s truly not worth the feeling of a false sense of reality and relief.

I have no apologies anymore to give to anyone for my choices. Only in my cage, would one understand that you gotta do what it takes to survive.Even if it rips you apart .This, this is my survival.