(no subject)
once again, things have been building up.
at school, at home, in my mind.
it seems as if everyone is at my back, pawing, clawing, demanding entry to my mind simply so they can tear it apart with their words, their ignorance.
it's a scary feeling, one that i doubt i will ever forget; i no longer care, i no longer feel. tears almost constantly prick at my eyes but i cannot shed them. i contemplate doing what i swore, a little over a year ago, i would never do again, simply so that i may feel human again. i shy from the term alive. i have not felt truly alive for a long time. i simply need to feel as if everything is full-colour again, less like i am viewing it through glass, from within my own head, a prisoner to my thoughts, more like it is i myself who is seeing, doing, making decisions and feeling everything first hand, instead of simply going through the motions.
my stomach is swirling, it feels like a storm brewing in my belly; it is anyone's guess as to whether or not i will emerge alive from the other side.
it is times like these that i resent the quiet. when there is no noise to distract me, my own mind can run rampant, and the only thing that can seem to drown it out is music. there are those who scorn me for listening to what i do, so often as i do. but the truth, my friends, is this - i can't bear to hear what goes on inside my head. it's like my own psyche is trying to bring me down, my mind is consuming me, slithering over me until it can find a chink in my armour; can infiltrate my defences and kill me from the inside.
it does not take long before i ask myself: is this how it feels to be crazy?
am i insane?
a sociopath?
but i stop myself there.
i cannot be a sociopath, because i feel for others, i have empathy, i have love and hate and distrust and all the wonderful rainbow of human emotions.
love. i have come to believe that i am in love. her name is caroline. she is my best friend, outside of those i have met online. she is beautiful, she is smart, she is kind and she is straight. heterosexual. she is catholic. she has a boyfriend. all things i have been determinedly telling myself for over a year now. all things which have had no effect upon the way i feel about her. it is only now beginning to stop feeling so taboo that i may speak about this in any depth at all. that i may let myself think about this, this aspect of myself, where i can feel such profound feeling for another person, yet be fully aware of the impossibility of my feelings amounting to anything more than heartache on my part, and ignorant bliss on hers. she is happy, and i would never wish to taint that by telling her. i would rather she be happy with someone else, than unhappy.
suddenly, tomorrow's test, the one i should be revising for, pales into insignificance.
i wonder if this is as good as life gets. pining after an impossible dream, a love that will never be requited, wishing and wasting away my days in the middle of a muddy hill, praying to anything that may hear to have the chance of leaving. i suspect my pleas fall on deaf ears.
i crave human contact, almost as much as i fear too much of it, too many people knowing too much about me. it seems to me to be an impossible goal, to have people who will care for me, will touch me and talk to me as if i am their equal, even though seem to see me as an imbecile.
i almost hope for a nightmare tonight, because i know that when i awake, my heart will be racing and my senses thrumming, and i will feel so much. within the fear of the dreamscapes my subconscious pulls up for me, there will be no room to fear myself.
i do not want to admit that i am afraid; but i am, incredibly so.
once more, i wonder if i am insane.
i do not know if i will live out the night.
at school, at home, in my mind.
it seems as if everyone is at my back, pawing, clawing, demanding entry to my mind simply so they can tear it apart with their words, their ignorance.
it's a scary feeling, one that i doubt i will ever forget; i no longer care, i no longer feel. tears almost constantly prick at my eyes but i cannot shed them. i contemplate doing what i swore, a little over a year ago, i would never do again, simply so that i may feel human again. i shy from the term alive. i have not felt truly alive for a long time. i simply need to feel as if everything is full-colour again, less like i am viewing it through glass, from within my own head, a prisoner to my thoughts, more like it is i myself who is seeing, doing, making decisions and feeling everything first hand, instead of simply going through the motions.
my stomach is swirling, it feels like a storm brewing in my belly; it is anyone's guess as to whether or not i will emerge alive from the other side.
it is times like these that i resent the quiet. when there is no noise to distract me, my own mind can run rampant, and the only thing that can seem to drown it out is music. there are those who scorn me for listening to what i do, so often as i do. but the truth, my friends, is this - i can't bear to hear what goes on inside my head. it's like my own psyche is trying to bring me down, my mind is consuming me, slithering over me until it can find a chink in my armour; can infiltrate my defences and kill me from the inside.
it does not take long before i ask myself: is this how it feels to be crazy?
am i insane?
a sociopath?
but i stop myself there.
i cannot be a sociopath, because i feel for others, i have empathy, i have love and hate and distrust and all the wonderful rainbow of human emotions.
love. i have come to believe that i am in love. her name is caroline. she is my best friend, outside of those i have met online. she is beautiful, she is smart, she is kind and she is straight. heterosexual. she is catholic. she has a boyfriend. all things i have been determinedly telling myself for over a year now. all things which have had no effect upon the way i feel about her. it is only now beginning to stop feeling so taboo that i may speak about this in any depth at all. that i may let myself think about this, this aspect of myself, where i can feel such profound feeling for another person, yet be fully aware of the impossibility of my feelings amounting to anything more than heartache on my part, and ignorant bliss on hers. she is happy, and i would never wish to taint that by telling her. i would rather she be happy with someone else, than unhappy.
suddenly, tomorrow's test, the one i should be revising for, pales into insignificance.
i wonder if this is as good as life gets. pining after an impossible dream, a love that will never be requited, wishing and wasting away my days in the middle of a muddy hill, praying to anything that may hear to have the chance of leaving. i suspect my pleas fall on deaf ears.
i crave human contact, almost as much as i fear too much of it, too many people knowing too much about me. it seems to me to be an impossible goal, to have people who will care for me, will touch me and talk to me as if i am their equal, even though seem to see me as an imbecile.
i almost hope for a nightmare tonight, because i know that when i awake, my heart will be racing and my senses thrumming, and i will feel so much. within the fear of the dreamscapes my subconscious pulls up for me, there will be no room to fear myself.
i do not want to admit that i am afraid; but i am, incredibly so.
once more, i wonder if i am insane.
i do not know if i will live out the night.