I've spent the better part of the last 24 hours either sleeping or in tears, I am completely exhausted. I'm exhausted every damn day, come to think of it. Not one single one passes without a battle being fought inside my head. Fear paralyzes me, keeps me from even recognizing myself. Thank God for the mirror. But then again, there's the catch, every time I look in the mirror I see the past. There is no getting around it, I see what no one else sees. Every day I look in that mirror and wonder who is looking back at me.
I have to give this fight everything I have and I haven't been doing that so far, but there is a reason. Some fights you get into not knowing how tough the opponent is going to be, others you make a good calculation and you win. This fight is the former. I feel it eating at me, deep inside of me. I feel it in my shoulders, in my neck and in my back. I feel it taking the weight off my already tiny frame. I can't lose anymore of myself to this fight. Trouble is, I had no idea the Pandora's Box I opened when I started actually started trying to deal with this. How could I have possibly anticipated what this would do to me? I went in totally blind. It was a fucking ambush.
I don't know what to say, I don't even know if I'm punctuating properly and I don't even know what I'm writing right now. The reason I am writing is because it shuts my mind up. Shuts up the unnervingly rapid speed and paranoia. Shuts it all up. All the doubt, the worry, the fear...it shuts it up.
I don't even know why I started this stupid blog in the first place, all I've done is bullshit and play a fucking persona. "Cue 'The Nutjob' on three please." It was fun to go out, get fucked up, ruin my life and wake up and write about it. For some reason there was a part I felt I needed to play. Who knows? Who even fucking cares? All I am is a stranger to you. I'm a fucking stranger to myself. That's why I stopped writing this crap down. Now here I am back, grovelling at its feet begging it to help me shut my fucking head up.
I'm just tired of all this shit. All this fucking worrying and these fucking doctors and their diagnosis and the fucking drugs. I hate the fact that I need them. I fucking hate that I have to be dependent on this shit to keep myself from flying off the handle like I seem to do every god damn time I have a beer. I'm sick of letting everyone down, all these people who care about me. I'm paranoid that they will leave me and it eats at me every second of every day. I can feel it creeping in from the back of my head now. The speed of my typing is going up so I concentrate on wrinting instead of thinking that everyone hates me and is destined to leave me. See, now its back.
Thats the fucking catch, isn't it? It always comes back. I can feel the soreness in my shoulders and my feet. My eyes are dry and I'm hungry but I don't want to eat. Who the hell is this? Who am I? I'm tired of asking these questions. I'm tired of this weight on my shoulders. I'm tired of the sadness and the guilt. I can't take too much more of this, I just really don't think I'm strong enough.
But don't feel sorry for me. Don't forget that there is only one person driving the nails into my cross. Me.