Going crazy is definitely a full time job and I am the employee of the month. To give my all is to destroy myself, as per usual, I cannot function otherwise, that’s who I am. And yet here I am on the cusp of another breakdown, tired beyond belief and there’s no light at the end of the tunnel, not at the moment at least. Not at the next moment, nor the following. Seconds flash and all I can think about is how much I keep on wasting my life. I don’t know why. I have no faith, I have no will and I am most definitely out of “get up and carry on”. While my demons (who don’t pay rent) don’t really have a chance to shine these days (the rare benefit of being busy), I feel like there’s a bomb ticking inside my head and they’re cranking up the heat. Tick, tock, tick tock. And no, unfortunately, not Ke$ha’s song has taken over my mind in this case, a completely different craze. Maybe it’s time to put down all my weapons.
“Will I not go crazy?” I ask kneeling right in front of her.
“Don’t worry, you won’t,” she says while giving me the poison and making sure I drink every last drop.
“You will,” you know. “There’s no escape, some things always have to die.”
Is there somewhere you can meet me? Is there somewhere where I can get my salvation? Is there somewhere where I can feel like I belong for once? Is there somewhere where any of this makes sense?
“I see a sad little sinner in the mirror
The devil works hard like my liver
I don’t wanna be alive, but I don’t wanna die
A fistful of pills, you’re a nobody”
“You have such a huge wall between you and the world,” says pretty much the third person in one week’s span and all I can do is nod uncomfortably and pretend that I’m fine.
“Cause I put on these faces pretending I’m fine
Then I go to the bathroom and I press rewind
In my head, always going round and round in my head
Your fingerprints stuck a stain on my skin”
Why does it feel like it’s never enough? Why does it always feel like nothing is within my grasp? Why do so many people insist that I have this huge wall of China inside of me that I keep on building between them and myself? Am I that closed off, am I that reserved? Am I so out of reach? I feel like something’s broken and it’s not my heart this time, it’s something else entirely.
“I have so much to give,” I scream under my crushed veneer in the bathroom on a Sunday night. “Why does nobody want it? Why does nobody want to take it?”
The feeling of doom keeps on expanding like a black hole inside of me, swallowing the last glimmer of hope that I had. I can’t keep doing this, I cannot keep this up anymore. I lost myself a few times but I feel like this is the crescendo of a tragic story. Something is coming to an end, I’m not entirely sure what that is. Sometimes you have to die to be reborn but please, keep me out of it this time.
Am I as doomed as I feel?
