Joey
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Dec 22, 2015
- Messages
- 6,801
I'm having an incredible anxiety today. I'm somewhere between hungover, and a major psychotic break. This whole situation recently gone past has stressed me beyond what I can handle. Now I am very much on the verge of losing everything. My friendships, my housing, my reputation (which is already fucked). My once honest life has become so far out to the people who matter the most to me. I can't stand it.
I can't stand the places my head goes. The extremes; the ups and downs are bouncing to the ceiling and back to the floor of this one single hell. I exist in this hellish frame of mind which occasionally dissipates to something which offers a glimmer of hope. A change to get out and succeed.
Then I recede back into my mind. I make irresponsible choices. I narrow the options. The air becomes stagnant as all windows and doors are shut in places I hadn't even seen. Sealed so I can no longer take these routes in my maze. Back in the maze of my own creation, with its paths alternating with each though I have. It's crossed my mind so it's crossed the way.
It's a barren place, decorated grotesquely with some powerful nothingness, branching out to say the way is for naught. That knot in my soul needs to be undone in order to pass by. Therapy, drugs, self-realization to epiphany and growth. But instead I grow to epiphanize drugs to realize no self and I self-medicate with drugs therapy.
Stunting myself the other direction, I still manage to find some brief respite, but my recession keeps me from achieving any cross over to a real life. It's like an infinite stiarcase. I'm infinitely going nowhere.
I cracked a window instead.
Out in the sunlight I stand with a sort of saunter, smoking away. I spend very little time focused on the natural world around me, although I do believe in it. Now I'm more concerned with my phone or with my imaginary thoughts of things that are right and wrong. It's almost always about people. Particularly people whom I love or care about. Sometimes it's very sad for what isn't, hopeful for what could be, pure fantasy for what may have been. Sometimes it's angry for I feel I been wronged.
But who's really wrong? I'm clearly not in a very good place, or even present of mind. In my imaginary world I'm not even the protagonist, the hero of my own story. I'm all fucked up. I'm losing. I don't expect anything good can last. I'm my own nemesis, screaming for the good inside to shine, even dimly. Just enough so that I can see. So I can highlight the ugliness and cut those parts off. The brighter the light, the more I can treat the disease. Change my attire and and retire the darkness that belies the night. I might be able but I don't know, please help me!
I can't stand the places my head goes. The extremes; the ups and downs are bouncing to the ceiling and back to the floor of this one single hell. I exist in this hellish frame of mind which occasionally dissipates to something which offers a glimmer of hope. A change to get out and succeed.
Then I recede back into my mind. I make irresponsible choices. I narrow the options. The air becomes stagnant as all windows and doors are shut in places I hadn't even seen. Sealed so I can no longer take these routes in my maze. Back in the maze of my own creation, with its paths alternating with each though I have. It's crossed my mind so it's crossed the way.
It's a barren place, decorated grotesquely with some powerful nothingness, branching out to say the way is for naught. That knot in my soul needs to be undone in order to pass by. Therapy, drugs, self-realization to epiphany and growth. But instead I grow to epiphanize drugs to realize no self and I self-medicate with drugs therapy.
Stunting myself the other direction, I still manage to find some brief respite, but my recession keeps me from achieving any cross over to a real life. It's like an infinite stiarcase. I'm infinitely going nowhere.
I cracked a window instead.
Out in the sunlight I stand with a sort of saunter, smoking away. I spend very little time focused on the natural world around me, although I do believe in it. Now I'm more concerned with my phone or with my imaginary thoughts of things that are right and wrong. It's almost always about people. Particularly people whom I love or care about. Sometimes it's very sad for what isn't, hopeful for what could be, pure fantasy for what may have been. Sometimes it's angry for I feel I been wronged.
But who's really wrong? I'm clearly not in a very good place, or even present of mind. In my imaginary world I'm not even the protagonist, the hero of my own story. I'm all fucked up. I'm losing. I don't expect anything good can last. I'm my own nemesis, screaming for the good inside to shine, even dimly. Just enough so that I can see. So I can highlight the ugliness and cut those parts off. The brighter the light, the more I can treat the disease. Change my attire and and retire the darkness that belies the night. I might be able but I don't know, please help me!
My life is a long journey into a
dark place with no light or hope
or
My life is a journey, long with
a hope or light, into no dark place
It's all a frame of mind
dark place with no light or hope
or
My life is a journey, long with
a hope or light, into no dark place
It's all a frame of mind
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