My mind is foggy, distant, a suffocation.
My eyes are tired, heavy, two glazed shells.
My emotions are anger, fear and the loss of hope.
I’m sat in a world that is too fast for me, the never ending, never stopping pace is something I can’t keep up with. I feel myself losing grip on my life, my sanity. I try to keep going and enjoy my nine-to-five, my drunk weekends, my Netflix marathons yet every waking moment I have a dagger pain in my chest that leaves me with the inability to breathe comfortably. My head feels too full of air with no way to extract it. My limbs and muscles ache and pull me down all while I feel the hatred for life grow. Not life as a whole, but just my own.
I imagine a beautiful life but it’s hard to see it when the people you believe would be in it are no longer, I imagine an excelling career when I have no prospects, I see a family, invites to events, glamorous outfits and perfect locks yet all the time I gaze into it, I feel it slip away further and further, into the depths of nothing.
I don’t want to be like this but I wonder, how much longer will I last? How long can I go before the crumbling creates an avalanche? How bad do I have to feel to be on the receiving end of support? How do I ask? How do I explain a mind that does not work?
Or is it a life of war on myself, will it forever be a constant fight to not step out in front of a speeding car? Will it be a constant fear that I end up in hospital, either at my own hand or someone else’s? Do I need to forever live with the fear of someone leaving me? Watching me? Taunting me? Will I always be terrified of those around me, as well as myself? Will there ever be a point in this life where I feel content? Comfortable? God forbid, even happy?
I’m not sure how to fix this, I’m not sure that I want too. I’m not ready for the failure or the famous disappointed-but-not-surprised glint in my peers eyes as they realise there is no saving me? That this is me. That this is all I am.
Is there more to life than this feeling of empty sadness? Or are some people just not built for this world? I don’t know. I used to think everyone was here because they were able to handle the fierceness of this life and yet I wonder, am I? Am I fierce enough, brave enough? Is my spirit fiery enough to fight through my broken soul? Am I the light in anyone’s life?
More importantly, could I be the light in my own?