Chapter 3: Won’t Most Believe It
Have you ever tried to think about all of your thoughts at the same time? Well, I have to admit that it’s actually very painful. I keep trying to focus on one single thought but then more come, and I start thinking to fast and end up giving myself a head rush. It’s like I have too many voices in my head. But wait, I’m not suppose to have any voices in my head anyways right? I mean, except for my conscience. But isn’t your conscience in your heart, not in your head? At least that’s what Leslie says. Ugh, I don’t know what to believe anymore. Just because someone says something is real does that make it real? Who says the word real can’t be talking about a chair or a house or a yard or a kitten? Why must everything have a specific meaning? And there I go again, rambling away. But I can’t help it. We should be answering these questions, not questioning the answer. Geesh! What is wrong with me? Everything. Everything is wrong with me. I have no life, no friends, no family, nothing. Not anything. Yet I do have all of those things.
This is the insanity that I was talking about. I can’t think straight. Sometimes I think about killing myself but not as much as I did when I was 13. Back then, I thought about it all the time. It was like my only escape, my only chance for survival. To feel better. To feel happy. To BE happy. I even started keeping a journal for every time I had a panic attack. Writing always helps to calm me down. Well most of the time.
10|25|09 - 7:05 PM
Right now I feel like killing myself. I don’t want to live. I don’t want to keep on disappointing everyone. I’m tired of my name, my friends, my family, my hair…I’m tired of me. I want to start over. I want to be someone new, someone that’s not me. I hate this feeling. This feeling of being watched, the feeling of having boundaries. I hate the feeling of being happy because I know it won’t last. It’s like it’s mocking me. Since when do I cry so much? Since when do I care and feel so much? I want to breathe. But it doesn’t make sense when I say that out loud. I feel myself bleeding. I feel myself wanting to cry but I can’t. I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I don’t want to. Maybe if I say that enough times this mess of emotions will go away. Maybe only then, I will be able to breathe again. I want to have someone to hold me and tell me that it’s okay to take in a deep breath of this polluted air and still…and still what? I don’t know.
I can feel myself sinking into the floor, then the ground. I feel myself disappearing yet the spotlight is always on me. I feel myself reaching out to the one person who can’t be there. I can see myself asking for help but not accomplishing…something? I don’t know where to go but I want to leave. I wanna be away from this. All of this. I need more space, I need a new world. I need a new me. I need to be able to speak my mind without wanting to kill myself later. It’s like everything’s gone. But then that doesn’t make sense. I need something new, different,…clean. Clean? Have I gone insane or psychotic? I need things to be clean and organized. I need my own space so I can make it perfect then tear it apart later. I want to slam and break and tear things up and apart and then clean it up later. Placing everything in a new place, a new position. Different. It has to be different but still feel the same. I keep thinking I’ve found who I am but I’m still no one. I’m still hating myself. I feel like I have a disorder that makes me insane, that makes me crazy. I can’t be perfect. I am not perfect, I am not perfect, I am not perfect, I am not perfect. I am not, I am not, I am not. Then what am I? Am I the names that people call me, am I all those labels? Am I like a brand of something? I don’t know what I am. I am me and I’m willing to do anything to change that. Even if suicide is my only way out. No disappointments, huh?
Out Time: 7:35 PM
View User's Journal
I Plea Insanity
My first story about my life on this site.
 |
