I wasn't supposed to live through this.
I was supposed to have as much fun as I could, push the limits as far as they would bend, fly as close to the sun as possible before being consumed in its fire. Laugh in the face of Death...until it laughed back at me. Took me under its dark wing into the black-out from which you don't wake up, the high from which you never come down.
The art of self-destruction and it's beautiful finale.
Until something fucked up my tragically doomed destiny, my dark inner heroine's romantic demise.
I decided to live.
I didn't know at first that that was what I was doing. That for me it had become a choice between one or the other: living or dying. I just saw the superficial reasons...losing my friends...about to lose my job...tired...sick...WORN OUT. I don't remember when I also lost my sense of self-respect and worth. And I didn't even know I lost my heart, my spirit, my soul. My will to live. Was it stolen from me, or did I give it away? A bit of both...?
It was harder and longer than I ever dreamed, but I made myself STOP. And I thought that was it, the realizing you have to stop, then the stopping itself, and then you're there. I never thought about: what next? Planning for the future used to mean finding a place to crash or collecting enough change for the subway or how to get tonight's supply of drugs. But it was a good life, never had to think too much or too deep about anything. Never came down for long enough. If it *feels* good, it must *be* good. And to hell with the consequences...why should it matter?
When tomorrow doesn't exist, who gives a FUCK what happens today?
I thought I already came down. I thought after the initial crash it would get easier. But it doesn't stop, and I just keep
coming
down.
And
down.
Unmasking before my eyes all those glaring realities I tried so hard to avoid. All my hard work built up for months...slowly unravelling, I'm coming undone. Seeing myself for who I have really become, seeing all I have done and let *be* done to me. Blurred images coming gradually into focus.
Have you ever looked in the mirror, and I mean stopped and really looked, at the person staring back at you? And not recognized who you were looking at?
But there it is, in front of me. All the lies and the truths standing side by side, only I don't always know which is which, don't know what was real and what I made up. The past looming like a massive tidal wave, ready to sweep me away again, and I'm not sure I know how to swim. And I'm not sure I even want to, drowning would be so much easier, and I've been fighting the current for hours, and my arms are oh-so-tired.
I really don't know if I'll make it or not. I JUST DON'T KNOW. I don't know anything anymore, I don't know ME anymore. I hate my job, I hate myself, I hate everything. I have nightmares every night, I have constant flashbacks throughout the day, I have panic attacks waiting for the bus. Maybe this is just some kind of psychological withdrawal bullshit that's fucking up the chemicals in my head. Maybe I'm one of those people that never makes it out. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe it's useless.
The unrelenting black hole of my depression.
Why do I get the feeling I'll either be an inspiration to others...or a warning?
But I can't give up. I just can't. This is what I want. Becoming me. And I got more than I bargained for...I got my life back.
Only problem is...I don't know what the fuck to do with it.
---------------------------------------------
I just want to be....me
And when I can...I will.
~Smashing Pumpkins, "Mayonnaise"
---------------------------------------------
I just needed to write that down...it's been weighing on my mind and my heart for a week now. And I still don't know the answer.
~kimmy.
------------------
~*~I hope you take a piece of me with you...~*~
[This message has been edited by *SWeeT-e* (edited 06 December 2000).]
I was supposed to have as much fun as I could, push the limits as far as they would bend, fly as close to the sun as possible before being consumed in its fire. Laugh in the face of Death...until it laughed back at me. Took me under its dark wing into the black-out from which you don't wake up, the high from which you never come down.
The art of self-destruction and it's beautiful finale.
Until something fucked up my tragically doomed destiny, my dark inner heroine's romantic demise.
I decided to live.
I didn't know at first that that was what I was doing. That for me it had become a choice between one or the other: living or dying. I just saw the superficial reasons...losing my friends...about to lose my job...tired...sick...WORN OUT. I don't remember when I also lost my sense of self-respect and worth. And I didn't even know I lost my heart, my spirit, my soul. My will to live. Was it stolen from me, or did I give it away? A bit of both...?
It was harder and longer than I ever dreamed, but I made myself STOP. And I thought that was it, the realizing you have to stop, then the stopping itself, and then you're there. I never thought about: what next? Planning for the future used to mean finding a place to crash or collecting enough change for the subway or how to get tonight's supply of drugs. But it was a good life, never had to think too much or too deep about anything. Never came down for long enough. If it *feels* good, it must *be* good. And to hell with the consequences...why should it matter?
When tomorrow doesn't exist, who gives a FUCK what happens today?
I thought I already came down. I thought after the initial crash it would get easier. But it doesn't stop, and I just keep
coming
down.
And
down.
Unmasking before my eyes all those glaring realities I tried so hard to avoid. All my hard work built up for months...slowly unravelling, I'm coming undone. Seeing myself for who I have really become, seeing all I have done and let *be* done to me. Blurred images coming gradually into focus.
Have you ever looked in the mirror, and I mean stopped and really looked, at the person staring back at you? And not recognized who you were looking at?
But there it is, in front of me. All the lies and the truths standing side by side, only I don't always know which is which, don't know what was real and what I made up. The past looming like a massive tidal wave, ready to sweep me away again, and I'm not sure I know how to swim. And I'm not sure I even want to, drowning would be so much easier, and I've been fighting the current for hours, and my arms are oh-so-tired.
I really don't know if I'll make it or not. I JUST DON'T KNOW. I don't know anything anymore, I don't know ME anymore. I hate my job, I hate myself, I hate everything. I have nightmares every night, I have constant flashbacks throughout the day, I have panic attacks waiting for the bus. Maybe this is just some kind of psychological withdrawal bullshit that's fucking up the chemicals in my head. Maybe I'm one of those people that never makes it out. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe it's useless.
The unrelenting black hole of my depression.
Why do I get the feeling I'll either be an inspiration to others...or a warning?
But I can't give up. I just can't. This is what I want. Becoming me. And I got more than I bargained for...I got my life back.
Only problem is...I don't know what the fuck to do with it.
---------------------------------------------
I just want to be....me
And when I can...I will.
~Smashing Pumpkins, "Mayonnaise"
---------------------------------------------
I just needed to write that down...it's been weighing on my mind and my heart for a week now. And I still don't know the answer.
~kimmy.
------------------
~*~I hope you take a piece of me with you...~*~
[This message has been edited by *SWeeT-e* (edited 06 December 2000).]
