An empty space….

I crashed last month. Like always? I didn’t see the signs until after. Like always I hid how much I cried, hid that I didn’t want to breathe any more. I planned in detail again just how I’d do it. I’ve got a quick fool proof way. No come backs. No doctor will save me. But its just thoughts. Its what happens when I get that low. I know there’s some name for it. Where you plan it but have no intention to actually do it. I seem to purposely break myself and shatter my own defenses every time I try to build them. Honestly I’m tired of this game. So damn tired. I’m tired of building myself back up and pretending that I’m always ok. I’m tired of always showing the world a smile, and im known for it… that stupid smile. Its there hiding me behind it.

Right now I feel numb. No emotion is hitting me hard enough to get through. I’m just sitting here in my mind slowly building these glass shards up one by one. You’d think by now I’d have cut myself so many times that I’d build with something stronger. But no… I’d rather walk on broken glass apparently…

But you see? This is the thing with depression. It hits us all in different ways. Its sets us apart but in being apart we are together(these are my thoughts remember). It torments us with sweet nothings. Promises of things being better if we just give in and let that dark gray soft depressive cloud envelope us in its warm embrace. But they’re not better. They never are. And yet so many of us give in again and again. Are you tired like me? Because I’m so damn tired of all this.

I want to be better. I want to be like everyone else. I don’t want to have to fight the feeling that my skin is trying to crawl off me every time I’m around people. I dont want to keep being afraid of people and places with lots of them. I dont want outs to my anxiety to be to claw my skin on my arms until I make it bleed(I’m working hard on finding ways to not do this including living in t-shirts no matter the weather because I cant hide it). I’ve often said over the years that I want to be normal. But what’s normal? To the outside world I appear to function fine. So therefore? I must be fine. I must be normal… Please remind me of this next time I’m on the bathroom floor crying so hard I can hardly breathe all while trying to make no sound so no one knows what I’m doing. Remind me of it when my own mind turns against me and drags me down shattering every hope I have, leaves me a broken jaggard mess. Remind me then that I’m normal. Because those times I forget…

So here I am. Back to the now. And I’m here. I’m starting to feel words again so I know I’m coming back. I’m building enough and fighting the numb enough and not just floating in it because floating in numb is easy and since when did I ever take the easy road anyway? I can’t quite catch the words yet to make poems. But I will. I have hope. When I have nothing else inside me? I always find a way to have hope. And sometimes things get so dark in my mind. But still always there is hope. Hope plants seeds. Hope can grow a blade of grass or a mountain…

Look at me here littering this page with my thoughts… I feel I’d have made more sense if I’d just grabbed a tin of alphabet spaghetti and played scrabble with it(now there’s an idea!). But I stick to the promise I made for this page… be open. Honest. Who cares if they think your a fruitloop? You’ve never eaten one so does it matter? The point is I’m real.

I’ve just seen something fluffy walk into the room and meow(well he makes a sound that sounds like “no”), in my direction… I’m going to say hello and touch the uber fluffiness because no one can deny a cat…

Hugs to you all at the end of the wire.x.