The ledge I walk is a thin precipice, Of mental regressions and pure recklessness. One misstep and I fall into the direction, Of either extreme mania or depression.
Tag: Mental
Indisposed
She laid there desolate and indisposed... Her cold fingers twisting strands of fine blonde hair. Her green eyes staring at nothing but the ceiling... While her mind tried to remind her why she ever cared.
In-Between
What happens when you’ve found yourself stuck in some kind of limbo of satisfaction with who you are?
I’ve repeatedly found myself torn between completely loving or hating myself. There is rarely an in-between for me. There are moments when I’m so proud of the work I’ve done, where I’ve gotten, and who I’ve become. In those moments I truly and wholeheartedly love myself… But those feelings don’t tend to last very long.
It’s like my brain flips a depression switch and I’m back to hating myself. I feel like I’m not enough, I’m not worth it, I shouldn’t be here, my existence is pointless… Blah blah blah. I’m left feeling 102% unsatisfied and disappointed in where I still am and who I think i should be. Touché to mental sabotage…
I just don’t know what to do to fix this anymore. The only thing I feel like I can do at this point is let it happen, ride it out, and hope the self-love lasts longer than the hate.
Time heals… I get that. Personal effort and growth is key… Yeah sure. But will time and effort really be able to invoke complete love for myself? Or do all of us just learn to tolerate and cope with ourselves enough to survive?
Chemicals
It's just a powder... White Pressed and covered in an enteric-coated shell... Altering my mind while chemically convincing me I'm well. Branded to fix all the dopamine and serotonin... In lieu of my over-indulgence of caffeine and melatonin. Side effects may include suicidal thoughts and/or actions... But misery also holds a certain level of attraction.
As Punishment
She left herself vulnerable to men's filthy hands... Carelessly accepting all their silent demands. She laid there complacent as they took what they pleased... Appearing content, yet desperate to leave.
Stranger
There was a stranger in my home, and they hid perfectly. Lurking and snaking through the shadows, amusing themselves with the thrill of going unnoticed. They watched silently. Absorbing and observing the miniscule details, adding to their list of evidential flaws. And they searched intrusively. Prying and peering into the failed bits and miserable pieces of my daily life. There was a stranger in my home, and that stranger was me.
Anonymously Hal 