The only time I ever feel truly okay is when I'm asleep dreaming. The meds enable way vivid dreams, but I don't mind because they take me away from my own existence. It's the moment I wake up that is the worst. Because everything that is real and hurts comes flooding back to me tenfold, reminding me of just how unbearable the passing of time in this life is. I can hardly breathe, I'm drowning. The moment I wake, everything rushes back into memory and I feel like bursting into tears, all the time again. I go to sleep crying and I wake up wanting to cry.
Spotlight
- mynameisjane
- hi, with warning. i am entirely damaged and crazy with masochistic tendencies and an addictive self-destructive personality. but i am in the trials of self-recovery- though thoroughly failing in the process, here's to hoping- one day- someday. in form of pure tried articulation of the written word, this space keeps the highly erratic and darkly emotional self reflection of my contemplative life with bits of sunshine scattered in between. i am a mess; i absolutely create disasters and inevitably fuck everything up. so decide if you are one who actually thinks and chooses for his own mind or one who is fated to predestined cowardice, forever running away like the rest of the narrow minded sheep in this world and unable to embrace the violent and bittersweet storm of harsh realness.
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