I've come to realize...
My mind doesn’t know how to process being alone. .. so I immediately rush through hundreds of hours of movies, and hide behind hundreds of thousands of book pages… and when the credits roll, and the last page has been turned, my mind turns the cover into those dark corridors no one likes going through at night. All the doors that one fights to keep under lock and key, slam open simultaneously, and then floods of anguish and pain crash against me as if I’d just landed face first on concrete from a fifth story balcony. The thoughts that urge me to go over the edge and want to banish me into the ruins of my shattered sanity, blurring in the corners of my peripheral vision, taunting me with every step I take to get to the door, my exit, my one way out. As I try to scream the sounded only gets muffled out by the laughter of the person I only wish to be, he mocks me, and insults who I am today, disgusted with what I’ve done, no where near the results I’d promised myself I’d have by this time. When I try to run from the shame I’ve brought upon myself I fall into a pool, full of self loathing and tears that I’ve been unable to shed for the passed ten years. Trying to swim to the surface is futile, because I’ve already lost all will to keep kicking, and I’ve already begun to drown in so much self hatred, that the urge to keep going has left. As I slowly sink to the bottom of the pool, all I can think about is how no one can pull me out of the pool, because all of my haunting failures continue to weigh me down, and if it were a real pool, and if I were really drowning, I’d pray with all my might, that no one would notice and would let me continue my descent into oblivion. But when I close my eyes ready to accept what’s to come, something calls my attention, throwing my eyes open, only seeing that I’m still in my room,alone, with my mind preparing itself to go through all of it, all over again. To feel despair, breathlessness, and the motivation to take the extra step over the edge, just so I don’t have to come back to the feeling of being alone, to just end it all. In one. Single. Step. And that’s what is like to be stuck inside my head. Minutes feeling like weeks, hours feeling like decades, days feeling millenia apart. Solitude is the weapon the mind needs to go berserk. And it’s the one my head chooses to use first. I don’t want to be alone anymore…