I layed down and the world felt unreal. It was strange but comforting, because I didn’t feel strong enough to live in a real world. Objects were moving slightly, my dressers moved apart and changed shape and the ghosts on my doll moved, I was a little scared but intrigued also. Fog seeped out of my lamp and inside it were little specks that looked like stars that spread out on my ceiling. It was comforting to see that stars didn’t need a sky. That was months ago.
I hate the fear. I’m scared when I see angry faces and those moments when I think my cat might tell people how I’m feeling, or when I feel that I am being watched by inhuman things. It makes me tired. It try to rock back and forth, it’s the repetition. I felt a hand once on my head while I was on the couch, my old best friend was in the bathroom and no one else was home, it didn’t feel like a paw, but a giant hand squeezing tighter and tighter on my head. It was very strong, I thought it would hurt me. I wasn’t depressed. I didn’t look back because I was afraid of what I would see.
I was so sad that I could hardly breathe. It was such agony. I needed to be unconscious because I didn’t think I could make it through the day, let alone the year. Showering and brushing my hair felt impossible because I could see in my mind all of the showers that I would have to take and all of the knots I would have to untangle in my life and it was utterly exhausting. I didn’t want to have to blink or breathe anymore. I fell into a couch and my bed because sometimes I couldn’t stand. It felt like the equivalent of being hit by a truck and lying there with mangled limbs and broken bones, and needing to not exist.
The moments were in this time or out of it, but they were always in my time, and my time will always be mine, even if I don’t always remember it. 😉 If the pain gets so bad again that I can’t walk across the room, I have to remember
…It’s just for now. I’m glad that isn’t followed by a “, but”