I gotta write down what’s in my head. I’m feeling lost. I’m down. I’m losing who I am, in a fog of what I was and who I want to be. I re-enrolled in classes and I’m in the position to transfer to the University of Minnesota. It’s what society expects of me. To go to college to get a degree and a new career.
I love meteorology. I really do.
I hate school. I fucking hate it.I have nightmares about it every god damned night.
I should be clear, I have had nightmares every night for the last 9 years. It’s part of my world and life. I see Leah hitting me in the face, and when the fist falls away, it’s Abby. I have nightmares about high school and my current college. I have nightmares that cut be down to the bone, fears resurgent. Things I don’t want to think about.
Then, on top of that, I am anxious, on the verge of tears and manic breakdowns damn near every day. So I put on this front of happiness. Nobody knows how much pain I’m in. Nobody sees my struggling. I don’t tell people. I see a therapist and I tell her, but nobody else. I don’t want to be a burden.
The one person I want to talk to, I can’t. I shouldn’t burden her, because that’s not our relationship. I learned recently that she’s terrified to talk to me, so because of that, she ignores me. After three years of intimacy, the severing of the contact hurts, and has left a void in my soul. I can’t burden her with that. She needs to move on same as I do. It just sucks to take the high road.
I need to find something to take up my time. I try to fill my time with surrounding myself with friends. It works, until they’re gone. Then I’m alone with my own thoughts. These niggling little details. The stress, the pain, the anxiety. All my faults. All the things I thought I was good at.
It fucking sucks. It really really does.
And of course, because I’ve a flair for being dramatic, I can’t even talk to my friends about this stuff. Because it’ll be easier to leave me to wallow in my pain, then to support me.
That’s not fair. It’s in my head. My friends, the true friends, want only what’s best for me.
I beat myself up because it frustrates me to the core. I have a mental illness. I’m not smart enough to fix it.
I’ve done much better in the last few months. It’s tough. It really is. I miss my best friend. Everyone expects me to be over it. It’s been almost a year. Fuck that. I’m still in love. It sucks to say too, because I am not supposed to.
Nothing I’m feeling is new. Billions of people have felt this pain.
Billions have struck out against their beliefs in anger.
Shakespeare wrote a play that epitomizes my experience; Romeo & Juliet. The only difference is we didn’t kill ourselves.
I digress. I may write more later, but I needed to get this off my chest.
The sickness is at bay
My thoughts are my own
Not twisted in any way
No sins I must atone
Relief is shared with regret
As I remember sweetly
But you’d say “I don’t let”
And sweep it away neatly
So with poems I release
The wistful pain within
To make my thoughts cease
Much to my chagrin
In time you’ll come to hate me
As all the others do
I could not resent thee,
For you were my one true…
You wouldn’t think this healthy
but you wouldn’t cheer
In games I can be stealthy
But here I’m all too clear
I will always talk
To you when you’re not there
Whether I take a walk
Or merely washing my hair
You’ll probably never care though
That ship has sadly sailed
I care bout you more than you know
That’s why I think I’ve failed
Time heals all wounds, they say
And I guess time will tell
Though I’m not over you this day
I’ll overcome this hell
I tried. I pleaded. I wanted nothing more. I wanted to stay in your life.
You pushed me away. You said what you thought. You made sure I would never be there.
You claimed I was creating drama, when it was already there. It was the elephant in the room.
You don’t love me anymore. You haven’t for a long time.
Sure you say that you want the best for me, but it’s hard to believe.
The best is you, and I don’t have that anymore.
You pushed me away. It was easier for you.
Now I’m gone. I hope you’re happy.
Told I am loved, but endlessly used.
Great is my power, yet I am abused.
Helpless and trapped, controlling my life.
He is the source of all of my strife.
In need of a hero, to end all my pain.
Six new ones approach, but they need to train.
One is like me, but totally free.
Another is thin and tall like a tree.
The third is quite stocky, the fourth is real cute.
The fifth is a man with a turret to shoot.
The last one is ripped and is clearly deranged.
Maybe at last my life will be changed.
Told I shall trick them, like the ones from before.
Hope they can save me, this life I deplore.
Lead them all to my side, so I that I can rest.
But he puts all their skills right to the test.
They succeed in the end, to his angry dismay.
I tell them to end it, this is my last day.
With tears streaming down, they grant me my peace.
And finally now, my torture will cease.
It’s a brand new year. Big deal. It’s just another day. A day on the edge of the end of the world. It’s coming, I can feel it. Not sure how it’ll come and I’m not going to break down and buy a bunker somewhere, or force folks to sell their possessions.
Lots to do this year. Bettering myself and the like. I gotta write more. I only seem to write when tragedy befalls me. Look at December. November was fraught with emotions too. I feel like I’m okay now. Maybe I’m not. Who even knows? I sometimes wish I was a sociopath. Not the kind that preys on people. Just unfeeling. I suppose that would just open up a whole new can of worms, so to speak. I dunno.
Not sure what I’m looking forward to in this new year. I turn 30 in October. As of this moment, I don’t see it as a big deal. It’s just another day. I’m sure I’ll be more insecure about it during one of my manic episodes. Then I’ll write more cryptic poems that show how much pain I’m in.
Writing from the heart is good practice, but I need more happy stuff on here. I need to work on The World Within. Some people really liked the idea of Paen, the Sephoran dark lord. I do too, but I no longer identify with the main hero. How do I write from that perspective? It was always going to be in third person, but I just lack the ability to keep it interesting. I don’t want people to look at it like a LoTR clone. All fantasy novels draw from Tolkien in some respect. Look how well the Eragon series did. The books, not that travesty of a movie.
I’m going to do my best to write more. That’s not a New Year’s Resolution. That is 1080i.
Okay, I need to find something to eat. Thanks for reading, folks!
A wistful grin
A casual laugh and smile
Not enough time has passed yet
A feeling oh so vile
I just want my friend back
But my friend is going to leave
Since I can’t keep my mouth shut
And once again I grieve
So now my heart is heavy
Can’t do anything right
That completely fucked my night.