"they can swim through my head and stop all the traffic jams.."
Click to viewThere's a space man in my basement
there's an IV keeping time beside my bed
and a painting of Jesus wandering
for a dart board
you know he's seen you naked a million times
I long to be dead
and sleep with the fishes under the sea
they can swim through my head
and stop all the traffic jams
stop all the traffic jams
and there'll be no light tonight
if I'm fated
There's a cartoon killer in my livingroom
cut you open like candy and pull out your little wound
like tv dinners for the third world
and amputee dancing girls
you try but you fail cause you're bad at life
and good in a vacuum
I long to be dead
and sleep with the fishes under the sea
they can swim through my head
and stop all the traffic jams
stop all the traffic jams
and there'll be no light tonight
if I'm fated
I feel like I need to write. And I have shit in me, but I can't find the words to express myself. Perhaps it's just me holding back my feelings. That kinds feels like that's what that is.
Perhaps. Or something. Pfft. Like I fucking know anything anymore.
Too many knee-jerk reactions. Do I continue with reactions, because they're fail safes? Try to convince myself it's not that deep? Or is it? Deeper than it is?
I'm good at seeing patterns. But it also affecting me in such a way that it's a punch in the ego. Letting go of this is a battle. But I'm slowly winning.
I've had quite a few people talk to me in private about my journal. Thanks. It makes me a little happy that I'm not just talking to myself in another format.
I'm incredibly apprehensive to talk about certain aspects of my life. I've been in "the closet" for so long about so many things. Yes, I've come out. But, not in detail. Because I've never been able to before. I have no reason to be scared. But I still am.
When I get emotionally overwhelmed or scared I go into automatic shut down. My mind shuts off, I go completely blank and all I can do is look off into a corner. My breathing goes extremely shallow. Coming out of that is... a struggle. I'm not sure where this comes from. I haven't pin pointed it yet. My memory goes fuzzy except for specific events from Sophomore year in high school back.
My memory is bad in general. I think it's because of the anxiety there's not really anything else left to start picking up other types of stimulants other than what is already created in my head.
I think I need a good solid day of crying. I'm so frustrated. In a way it's relief crying. Mixture of the two. Losing control over situations. Even though it's okay! And everything is fine! Fantastic even! But but mere act of not having things in a particular order is fucking with my head.
Some times I feel like I'm in a nightmare in my head. You know how they tell you if you're in a nightmare and something is chasing you to turn around and call out to it? Stop running? That's kinda what I'm doing here. I'm calling myself out on my own mind fucks and mental bullshit. Doesn't help always, sometimes like in nightmares, the monster will morph into another horror. Or the world drops out below you and you're in an endless loop of falling and then hitting the ground 20 times.
I'm sure I should seek professional help or maybe even medication (I'm been thinking about this off and on. But Jesus, I really hate being sick on anti-depressants. It's really, really bad.) But I haven't killed myself/attempted/I'm not seeing things/I'm seeing improvements with what I'm doing now.
But there are some days where I'm just too exhausted with the mind fights I have. It's not voices, FYI. It's like.. My paranoia comes on with a terrible thought, I have to fight it off with logic and reason. Sometimes my brain feels raw from doing this. How does that work?