The unknown inside myself |
Basically, this is not a fiction. It’s happening but you can’t touch it with your body, but you can feel it. I’m not going to say what it is; I’m just going to explain it.
It could just be a feeling, or it could just be a sense but it’s definitely a place where my mind devours it all. I don’t know if it’s a mind palace though or just emptiness. But what I do know is that once I’ve been there, I never want to go back.
It’s like a spider web, tangling my ribs together, unable to breathe on the surface. It could be in my imagination or in my dreams, but it sure does feel like I can touch it with my fingertips. A hole in my chest where a dark wave of fear and pain fills it up and it topples and never ends. I can try to scream but there will be no sound, I can try to hit but there will be no bruise.
Once I’ve made it to the top and I think everything will be fine, the feeling of sinking is back. The worst is not the view I have on myself, the worst is not the feeling; the worst is falling, when I’ve fought for being healthy but then I’m back on square one. The worst is thinking that you may never make it to the top again.
I’ve been like this for ages, weak and pathetic, begging for help but not letting myself get any. I want to be better, I want to feel safe. But it’s like being tied up, unable to set yourself free, as I’m sinking deeper and deeper into the ocean.
For ages I’ve been trying to cut loose, to open up my ribcage and let the monsters out. For ages I’ve been cutting and carving, bleeding and screaming. I’ve been breathing through sore lungs and I’m constantly living with a broken piece on the inside. For years I’ve died every single day and I’ve wanted to die even more, to get a feeling of being alive.
There’s constantly someone outside my door, waiting for me to invite him in. I don’t know if he’s evil or if he’s good but sometimes I get the feeling that he’s me. Waiting, wishing and wanting. He’s my reaction when someone’s too close, or when they speak too loudly or too hurting. It’s him, the man who came when I was alone, who comforted me when no one else did. There is also the boy who died in the war but he’s not so visible anymore, it’s like he’s hiding from what I’ve become.
The feeling makes me wish I was brave enough to stab myself in my chest without dying. Just enough to not feel anymore. I’ve not been able to breath in ages and worst thing about it all is falling, deeper and deeper, never hitting the ground. How I wish that I one day can feel the asphalt under my fingers and just tell myself that I made it.
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| Kommentarer | | nimo_xD - 24 aug 14 - 00:25 | | Helt otroligt! Kan verkligen känna känslan! | | Lellusen - 14 jun 14 - 23:03 | | Det här var det vackraste jag läst på länge. Fantastisk. |
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