Sitting with myself is hard. Me, myself, and I. It’s lonely here, and my moods are unpleasant.
I’m trying to listen to my therapist. I’m trying to do what she said. To just “be.” To sit here and just be in my emotions, even if they’re uncomfortable. Just feel them. Stop avoiding it, stop masking it, stop casting them aside. They’re screaming to be heard, demanding to be felt.
I don’t want to feel the way I feel right now. I feel this way so often, you’d think I’d be used to it. Sometimes it’s familiar and it’s just what it is. But then there’s times like this where all I want to do is escape. But I can’t. Sometimes it feels like the first time, over and over again. So I sit here, stewing in my depression. Misery has manifested its way in front of my eyes. I’m looking at it and it’s chilling me to the bone. I don’t want this.
Somebody come and save me from this, I don’t want to be alone.
Every thought passing through my mind is heavy. I wish I could turn it off. I wish I could have enough strength to just lift it off and throw it over the wall I’ve created. Why can’t I? Why is it so hard? Why do I have to struggle? I’m not trying to play the victim. I’m not trying to find sympathy. These are questions I ask myself, and the reply, the silence that I hear is deafening. There is no call back to me. I’m alone in this answerless void.
My ghost dances around me, and I wish I could take her hand and dance too. She’s so free and even though the life isn’t in her, she looks more alive than I’ll ever be. The sound of her voice calls to me, sings to me, and all I want to do is sing back. But my voice has been silenced. Silenced by my own fear and insecurities. Silenced by the darkened thoughts that hold my down.
I want to speak to you, I want to be honest and let the words that run through me spill out and fall into your ears. Would you really hear me, though? It doesn’t matter though because I have no control. I don’t want to speak my truth if the end result is not what I want. To be silent is to be safe. To be safe is to be blissfully ignorant. I look out the windows of my soul and watch as life passes me by. My fear keeps me company as its prisoner, and I’ve stopped fighting.
I’m afraid my thoughts and words will shatter the world. My world. To touch you is to risk it all. Every moment, every breath lies on the uncertainty and sometimes I just want to stay frozen in time so nothing will take these moments away.
A song comes on and memories flood back. The song is beautiful. The memories aren’t.
I feel even more alone now and have nobody to tell this to. I won’t bother. These highs and lows are exhausting and I can’t bother anyone with what I feel. I drain myself, and I can’t selfishly ask someone to come drain themselves too.
I put the spare keys down on the table. I stare at the back door one last time. I turn away down the stairs, look back up for the last time. This nightmare I called home burns to the ground as I shut the front door forever. The song ends.
I’m tired of my own tears. To allow them to spill on you will flood me with guilt.
The amulet of infinite security isn’t mine. I don’t know if it ever will be. This haunts me. Always in the back of my hopeless mind. I want to forget it. I want to let it go. I want to grey it out and let it die. Some dreams aren’t meant to come true.
This heart isn’t a home. The poison is painted on the walls. The air I breathe is thickened with toxic radiation. I gasp for air and search for a way out.
I’m dying alone in here.
I can’t find the way out.
Everything is going dark.
You’re beyond my reach,
I can’t say I need you.
It’s too late now,
this isn’t what you want to do.
The voices echo,
so soft and gentle as they fade away.
I have no one left,
this is the price I must pay.