Insanity
Title: Insanity
Characters: OC (First person POV)
Genre: Journal
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~2000 words
Summary: Rantings of a reckless mind, a brush of insanity.
insanity;
I think I’m going insane.
As easily as that might be put for some people to say, it’s a lot more complex process than just losing your mind.
Losing your mind takes time. Lot of it.
I wake up to the sound of the alarm. Could’ve sworn to God I slept just five minutes ago. My eyes feel like they’re burning from within, and I swear I try to “sleep it off”, but you see, it’s a kind of tired that sleep can’t fix. I spend the next couple of hours procrastinating, wondering how lovely it’d be to take a day off, because just the thought of getting up from the comforts of my solitude and heading out that door into the real world seems like such a hefty task. But alas, I’m gifted with a job and I’m a determined, hardworking adult, and that liberty is not mine to take.
Speaking of interactions with the outside world, does anybody else feel the dread of a meeting or a presentation? Like speaking to one unknown person wasn’t enough, let’s put you in front of a dozen and have you address them directly. Oh, and these decide your career. Directly or indirectly, still the same. Who could explain to them, the feeling of my gut wrenching or the sweaty palms or my heaving breath. Or just the fact that I’m going red in all the wrong places and it just does not feel right. But I do my best to brush it off, putting the summer heat to blame. Who could explain to them, the rush of half-digested food, every time I speak into the microphone, into the unknown, praying what I say makes sense, because I’ve long lost my trail of thoughts, the words I had pre-planned, as soon I opened my mouth. Who could explain to them I spend, minutes, heck, even hours, reciting, playing the words in my head again and again till I get them right. Who could explain that it’s a huge task for me. And I get nervous, and I get it all wrong, and I feel useless after, because I had spent so much time and effort into learning the words I couldn’t even speak properly. Who could explain?
Facing people is hard. Making new friends is harder. I have my own little world, a little circle. My own little safe haven of all things familiar, and I cling onto them like dear life because outside of this little, miserable bubble of mine, I know nothing. Who could explain, that me being me, I am atrocious at striking a conversation and therefore terrible at making new friends. Hence, I am forever grateful to all my friends for approaching me and staying. Who could explain to all those people, merely a silhouette, a shadow, a passer-by, the reason for my silence. I know I couldn’t. Who could explain that mostly I’m just afraid of taking the first step, but I swear I don’t bite. Who could explain that the reason I divert my eyes every time they meet yours, is because I’m afraid of eye contact. Who could explain that while most have an intricate array of grasping conversations, I’m still struggling to find my voice. I’m merely a soul searching for words. I mean no harm.
I stand at the precipice, overlooking the entirety of my life and my past decisions and cannot come to terms with it. I come across all the people who have gone from close strung friends to something bordering strangers, and I cannot come to terms with it. I come across these people daily and it’s like a daily reminder of my past, of all the mistakes, of all the people I’ve let go and I cannot come to terms with it. Cannot come to terms with the fact that I’ve let people down, that I’ve pushed people away, that I was so ignorant. I look for a distraction to drown my thoughts but all I want is to be curled up on a bed, crying my eyes out, probably listening to some Coldplay while I drown in my own tears.
Some days are a blur, a train of thoughts so distorted, so fast, I barely grasp them. These days are sparing because I barely feel emotions. Living the day like a living, breathing, human is supposed to do - Get up, dress up, show up. Eating, working, eating, working, eating, sleeping. And then some days it comes pouring down on me. Like the heavens itself let loose of all its grief and it’s building up on my shoulders and it’s ringing through my ears and it’s piercing through my skull and pushing down on my chest and there’s a throbbing in my veins and I can barely tell my breaths apart and my limbs are going weak and my eyes are tearing up and my head is swimming and…
Heart be steady…
How do I explain that some days it’s a struggle just getting out of bed? My anxiety holds me hostage from the things unknown. The need to console myself out of it is long dead in some corner of my brain, and for once I wish I’d just curl up and let the world carry on without me. For just one day. Leave me be. How do I explain that feeding myself is a chore I’d rather not do because even though my body needs it, my mind gets the better of me? How do I explain that some days it is hard to live a full functioning adult life, when it’s enticing to rather be a dog and people come pet me and feed me snacks? How do I explain that some days I just want to shut off the world and drift into a reverie of all things nice, because honestly, dreams seem way better than the harsh reality. How do I explain that sometimes I’m afraid of confronting people so my thoughts keep me tied to my bed till I’m a graveyard of flesh and bones, my body but hollow from the inside, my mind but just a network of chaos.
I love my own company. In my lowest, I tend to shut off people altogether. I lose connection with the reality, living my life in a daydream of regrets and what ifs. I seek solitude within myself, but truth be said, I am afraid of being left behind. Although I like being alone, being lonely is not something I entertain. I constantly seek companionship, which leads to my downfall because I’m so dependent on people. How do I explain that some days I just need a time out? Like some days when I don’t want to interact and just want to be left alone. These days are long because I allow myself to feel all the hard and fast emotions, and I want to deal with them alone. How do I explain that I’m not avoiding you because I hate you, it’s because I need to train my thoughts? How do I explain that some days when you need someone the most, that someone cannot be there and I need time to learn to do this alone? How do I explain that sometimes when I am pushing you away I’m secretly wishing for someone to hold me while I cry myself to sleep.
Some nights are lost songs in the midnight air, sweeping away from the balcony. Some nights are lonely stars. Some nights are metal rock blasting through the speakers while I go numb my heart. Some nights are ugly crying into my pillow. Some nights are tranquil and rare. But most nights insomnia sings me sweet little nothings and my loneliness gives me comfort and I try and count all the reasons to stay awake at 3am.
How do I explain the longing of something, anything, that could fill the long gaps? How do I explain that you could feel lost without a reason? How do I explain that “sad” is not a choice? How do I explain that tears can come without a cause? It’s so easy to point and say, try to change your attitude, when your thoughts are what you should be changing. Because in most cases, unless there is a visible wound, the world would choose not to believe you. In most cases the world would rather believe that I am so good at making something out of nothing. And in most cases… I’ve believed them.
It’s so hard to make people understand, that I’ve stopped trying altogether. Because sometimes it feels good not to speak about anything to anyone. People ask me, help me understand, but can’t you see? I’m still trying to understand it myself. I’m still in the process of learning myself and I have not reached to a conclusion. Maybe there is no conclusion, just a never-ending road to wherever it so may lead. I’m still learning.
I swear I could write a million words to make you understand, but sometimes words aren’t enough if you can’t read them.
Some nights I write my heart out on white parchment with invisible ink, but for the world it’d still be a blank paper. Some nights my dreams keep me awake, like the flicker of a candlelight in the lonesome dark. Some nights I lay in bed watching the sunrise, because beautiful things are hard to come by.
I wake up to the sound of the alarm. Could’ve sworn to God I slept just five minutes ago. My eyes feel like they’re burning from within, and I swear I try to “sleep it off”, but you see, it’s a kind of tired that sleep can’t fix.
xxx
Characters: OC (First person POV)
Genre: Journal
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~2000 words
Summary: Rantings of a reckless mind, a brush of insanity.
insanity;
I think I’m going insane.
As easily as that might be put for some people to say, it’s a lot more complex process than just losing your mind.
Losing your mind takes time. Lot of it.
I wake up to the sound of the alarm. Could’ve sworn to God I slept just five minutes ago. My eyes feel like they’re burning from within, and I swear I try to “sleep it off”, but you see, it’s a kind of tired that sleep can’t fix. I spend the next couple of hours procrastinating, wondering how lovely it’d be to take a day off, because just the thought of getting up from the comforts of my solitude and heading out that door into the real world seems like such a hefty task. But alas, I’m gifted with a job and I’m a determined, hardworking adult, and that liberty is not mine to take.
Speaking of interactions with the outside world, does anybody else feel the dread of a meeting or a presentation? Like speaking to one unknown person wasn’t enough, let’s put you in front of a dozen and have you address them directly. Oh, and these decide your career. Directly or indirectly, still the same. Who could explain to them, the feeling of my gut wrenching or the sweaty palms or my heaving breath. Or just the fact that I’m going red in all the wrong places and it just does not feel right. But I do my best to brush it off, putting the summer heat to blame. Who could explain to them, the rush of half-digested food, every time I speak into the microphone, into the unknown, praying what I say makes sense, because I’ve long lost my trail of thoughts, the words I had pre-planned, as soon I opened my mouth. Who could explain to them I spend, minutes, heck, even hours, reciting, playing the words in my head again and again till I get them right. Who could explain that it’s a huge task for me. And I get nervous, and I get it all wrong, and I feel useless after, because I had spent so much time and effort into learning the words I couldn’t even speak properly. Who could explain?
Facing people is hard. Making new friends is harder. I have my own little world, a little circle. My own little safe haven of all things familiar, and I cling onto them like dear life because outside of this little, miserable bubble of mine, I know nothing. Who could explain, that me being me, I am atrocious at striking a conversation and therefore terrible at making new friends. Hence, I am forever grateful to all my friends for approaching me and staying. Who could explain to all those people, merely a silhouette, a shadow, a passer-by, the reason for my silence. I know I couldn’t. Who could explain that mostly I’m just afraid of taking the first step, but I swear I don’t bite. Who could explain that the reason I divert my eyes every time they meet yours, is because I’m afraid of eye contact. Who could explain that while most have an intricate array of grasping conversations, I’m still struggling to find my voice. I’m merely a soul searching for words. I mean no harm.
I stand at the precipice, overlooking the entirety of my life and my past decisions and cannot come to terms with it. I come across all the people who have gone from close strung friends to something bordering strangers, and I cannot come to terms with it. I come across these people daily and it’s like a daily reminder of my past, of all the mistakes, of all the people I’ve let go and I cannot come to terms with it. Cannot come to terms with the fact that I’ve let people down, that I’ve pushed people away, that I was so ignorant. I look for a distraction to drown my thoughts but all I want is to be curled up on a bed, crying my eyes out, probably listening to some Coldplay while I drown in my own tears.
Some days are a blur, a train of thoughts so distorted, so fast, I barely grasp them. These days are sparing because I barely feel emotions. Living the day like a living, breathing, human is supposed to do - Get up, dress up, show up. Eating, working, eating, working, eating, sleeping. And then some days it comes pouring down on me. Like the heavens itself let loose of all its grief and it’s building up on my shoulders and it’s ringing through my ears and it’s piercing through my skull and pushing down on my chest and there’s a throbbing in my veins and I can barely tell my breaths apart and my limbs are going weak and my eyes are tearing up and my head is swimming and…
Heart be steady…
How do I explain that some days it’s a struggle just getting out of bed? My anxiety holds me hostage from the things unknown. The need to console myself out of it is long dead in some corner of my brain, and for once I wish I’d just curl up and let the world carry on without me. For just one day. Leave me be. How do I explain that feeding myself is a chore I’d rather not do because even though my body needs it, my mind gets the better of me? How do I explain that some days it is hard to live a full functioning adult life, when it’s enticing to rather be a dog and people come pet me and feed me snacks? How do I explain that some days I just want to shut off the world and drift into a reverie of all things nice, because honestly, dreams seem way better than the harsh reality. How do I explain that sometimes I’m afraid of confronting people so my thoughts keep me tied to my bed till I’m a graveyard of flesh and bones, my body but hollow from the inside, my mind but just a network of chaos.
I love my own company. In my lowest, I tend to shut off people altogether. I lose connection with the reality, living my life in a daydream of regrets and what ifs. I seek solitude within myself, but truth be said, I am afraid of being left behind. Although I like being alone, being lonely is not something I entertain. I constantly seek companionship, which leads to my downfall because I’m so dependent on people. How do I explain that some days I just need a time out? Like some days when I don’t want to interact and just want to be left alone. These days are long because I allow myself to feel all the hard and fast emotions, and I want to deal with them alone. How do I explain that I’m not avoiding you because I hate you, it’s because I need to train my thoughts? How do I explain that some days when you need someone the most, that someone cannot be there and I need time to learn to do this alone? How do I explain that sometimes when I am pushing you away I’m secretly wishing for someone to hold me while I cry myself to sleep.
Some nights are lost songs in the midnight air, sweeping away from the balcony. Some nights are lonely stars. Some nights are metal rock blasting through the speakers while I go numb my heart. Some nights are ugly crying into my pillow. Some nights are tranquil and rare. But most nights insomnia sings me sweet little nothings and my loneliness gives me comfort and I try and count all the reasons to stay awake at 3am.
How do I explain the longing of something, anything, that could fill the long gaps? How do I explain that you could feel lost without a reason? How do I explain that “sad” is not a choice? How do I explain that tears can come without a cause? It’s so easy to point and say, try to change your attitude, when your thoughts are what you should be changing. Because in most cases, unless there is a visible wound, the world would choose not to believe you. In most cases the world would rather believe that I am so good at making something out of nothing. And in most cases… I’ve believed them.
It’s so hard to make people understand, that I’ve stopped trying altogether. Because sometimes it feels good not to speak about anything to anyone. People ask me, help me understand, but can’t you see? I’m still trying to understand it myself. I’m still in the process of learning myself and I have not reached to a conclusion. Maybe there is no conclusion, just a never-ending road to wherever it so may lead. I’m still learning.
I swear I could write a million words to make you understand, but sometimes words aren’t enough if you can’t read them.
Some nights I write my heart out on white parchment with invisible ink, but for the world it’d still be a blank paper. Some nights my dreams keep me awake, like the flicker of a candlelight in the lonesome dark. Some nights I lay in bed watching the sunrise, because beautiful things are hard to come by.
I wake up to the sound of the alarm. Could’ve sworn to God I slept just five minutes ago. My eyes feel like they’re burning from within, and I swear I try to “sleep it off”, but you see, it’s a kind of tired that sleep can’t fix.
xxx