It Doesn't Stop, It Doesn't Go AwayAt one point I was convinced it did. I thought I had all the right weapons and all the strength I needed. I thought I had done all the work, cried the tears, felt the fears. My therapist told me this would not be a lifelong battle. Then how come I come back to the same point every time I feel I am ready to pick up my life? The symptoms spike, the sleep pattern gets disrupted, the depression comes back and I turn to being my old ogre self.
I'm sick of this cycle. Some days I don't even know why I feel the way I do. Some days I would rather sleep 'till the next day. Some days I am so angry I can barely act normal around people. But most of all, I hate dissociating. I feel most out of control when I dissociate. Not only do I lose touch with the outside world, I lose touch with myself. I wish I knew where I go to when I 'wander off'...
Some days I feel like I have killed off the little kid inside me and I'm just mourning his loss. Those are some of the darkest days. This is one of them. I feel hollow and bloody on the inside, like there was a little animal in there and I just ripped it apart with my bare hands. Now there's only the scratches and little pieces of him hanging around like pictures on the wall, trying to remind me that I was once there. Now I am here, in the outside world, just a walking suit clinging to... to what?
I'm sick of surviving. I want to live.