prison. but you’re trapped in your own mind and body. waking up never knowing who you’ll be that day, whether you’ll be content, at peace for what only seems like a second, or unintentionally sad with the constant nervousness of your mind. no one around you ever seems to understand that you want to be alone, without really being alone. you want everyone to be around you while you’re invisible, you can’t be seen nor spoken to. silence. silence becomes golden in sad, nervousness. but people don’t get that. family members always worried, always wanting you around, when you’re absent from your own mind, how could you possibly even be…here. they want you “home” when they don’t know thats the last place that would benefit your emotions, your mind.
i want freedom, from everything, from those who don’t seem to understand.
its happening again, as every leaf falls, as the wind grows colder, and the gray sky swallows the blue. winter, winter is still. winter is sadness. i grow still, colder. i am winter. quiet, but fierce and somewhere inside me theres embers fighting to be lit, but when the embers are suffocated, i am dead. you see, people use the word dead, as someone who passed on, still and cold. winter is dead, still, cold, silent. you can feel very much alive as dead. today, i am freezing, frozen. my fingers are shaky and numb. i don’t want to move, talk, breathe. today i am a winter storm, quiet but freezing, beautiful but a disaster.
oblivion, such a funny thing. you fear the world not knowing you, fear of being left in the dark corner of a crowded room, and no one remembering you when you’re gone. but you don’t make a sound to be heard, and you don’t say anything that could be remembered. i am a contradiction. i want a rainbow, but won’t stand through the rain to see it after the storm. i hide. i want to feel like what life is supposed to feel like, but does anyone really know?
i can’t find the words to say, as i write hundreds of them on paper, but they’re never right. ever. these can’t come from my mouth, how could they? who would believe me? if i said the wrong thing, i would need “help.” no one knows me well enough to help me. don’t tell me you know whats wrong after one or two times of me opening up to you, with the ten words in total I’ve said. because the couple sentences I’ve said, doesn’t come close to the twenty years of feelings and emotions I’ve had to deal with, and will forever have to deal with.
i can’t seem to sleep with these demons, they’re becoming stronger than the last time they appeared. I’m stuck in my selfish thoughts, but i live with them, every waking moment, every inhale and exhale. my world becomes harder to bear. over bearing, my life story. the people places and things, of my life seem hard to handle, when realistically, maybe I’m the one thats hard to handle. will i ever be okay?
I’ve been unwell far too long now. as long as i could remember, i was sad. i hold sad memories of my life on the back burner of my brain. the good memories are in the somewhere, if i search hard enough maybe i could remember a couple. childhood, not that i really had a great one, will forever be where i want to go back. carefree. believing in everything someone told you, no regrets or heartache, no sadness. everyone believed in you. not one person thought you would every let them down, but everyone lets everyone down. its inevitable. just like change, change is inevitable, growing up, death. so many years you have, but for half of them youre sleeping, and the other half its a battle between happy and sad, boring and fun. living and existing.
theres a big difference between living and existing. for me, I’m existing, when i chose to live, i get punished for putting what i want first, when i just exist, i get those questions…whats wrong? are you okay? do you need help?…blah blah. I’m numb. so what should i do? do i sit here existing and making other people happy? or do i live…to make myself happy, and my thoughts bearable. i have to live with the choices I’m making and thats totally okay. i know that already but when people try to mold my life when its 20 years too late, i fall back. i need help, but not in the way people try so hard at. i appreciate the effort, but just knowing someones there, thats enough.
maybe this all doesn’t make sense, but its my mind. it never makes sense. its a blur, a mess. non functioning, but i know one day i can get where i need to be, and i can do it on my own, with a little bit of help. instead of winter, i can be spring or summer. i can breathe and feel like I’m living rather than existing. i can feel very much alive.
maybe one day, it won’t feel like prison.
My beautiful and forever adored best friend