Search is what I do. I spend the days thinking about them and wondering how the hell everything became so fucked up and why the hell am I still here. Life in its entirety feels different and I struggle to make meaning out of it. It’s hard these to find meaning and keep up the hope that I used to have. I used to think it would get easier at some point, that this vice-grip would let up and I’d be a little freer. I struggle to be free and so I’m starting to think it’s rusted out.
Laying in bed in my apartment. I feel both restless and tired. My dreams won’t let me sleep. I wake up early in the morning actually feeling physically ill now. I thought I’d have to run to the bathroom. I go to sleep freezing and wake up bathed in sweat. This keeps happening. I beg it to stop but it hasn’t. I don’t know how to stop it.
I question what love is. We keep fighting. I have to give you a choice. Stay and offer support and try to have some form of empathy for me, or leave. Just leave if you can’t help me. It’s me against you and yours. I’m a tiny island surrounded by you- an ocean. No matter how hard I try to stand my ground and keep existing as a whole, I’m going to get edged out and slowly wash away. I’m tiny against you.
I know what it feels like to scream underwater. I’ve dreamed of it. All of the air of my breath is what it takes to try to be heard until I get consumed by water and dark.