My Mother always called me a strong girl.
Physically? Sure.
Mentally? Not so much.
It feels as if my head is hollowed out.
As if all logic and reason has been scooped out like ice cream.
It’s like somewhere in my body, I’m locked away observing my most wildest, absurd dreams as if they came straight out of a book.
The pages produced from the darkest part of my thoughts.
My actions? Involuntary.
As if it were as natural as one of my organs performing its function.
The need takes over.
I am no longer captain of the sea that is my mind.