7:25 pm // I just left work, now I'm sitting in the parking lot in my car just waiting for these giant waves of sadness & anxiety to crash down, shaking my whole world, sending me into a fit of tears and muffled sobs. but I know it probably won't come. I'll sit here, waiting, vacantly staring at the bushes ahead. but it'll never come. I'll sit here, sitting and sitting, waiting and waiting, and eventually it'll go away enough so I can drive home, even though I'd rather be anywhere else. I need to go back to a space that feels like my own, and currently it doesn't really feel like I have one of those spaces. my car barely feels like my own. everything is feeling out of my control and out of touch and I swear to fucking god if I start dissociating again I will curse beings across the universe. it feels like drowning. the silent, unspoken kind of drowning. the kind that's not talked about because nobody notices, or if they do, they just leave you to drown on your own, because they know it's what you want since nobody could help you anyways. the ocean is deep, dark, and unforgiving. giant waves crash onto sharp dark rocks. you're stuck watching, but you see yourself there, drowning, screaming, crying. you watch in hopes that you'll keep your head above water and drag yourself back to shore. you watch, knowing that the odds are that you'll watch yourself struggle in the water until you become unconscious, and the waves die down enough for them to carry your limp body carefully back to the shore, where you lay for god-only-knows-how-long until you awaken, weak & hungry & tired, ready for a long rest & recovery period.