The feeling is viscous. Impermeable. I’m restless, doomed. I can’t explain why I love art but wear a lab coat, just so I’m forced to remember what life is worth. I can’t find that in words.
A white noise, a terrible ringing. I used to feel nothing. Not anything. Now I hear my fear and anger competing. I’m listless. Delusional. My mind is irrational. My heart says “don’t listen” but I can’t always hear it.
I wouldn’t hurt myself anymore, but sometimes I can’t sleep on my side. I’m balding from tearing my hair out. Sometimes I dream I’m pulling at wires and on waking my palms are bleeding, sometimes
I wake up and I’m crying, fingernails buried alive, and I’m prying them out from under my skin. But, these are just days the SSRI’s aren’t working, the days when I'm ill and my whole body's hurting.
My dad is so sad - he says “when will you stop them” I say “hopefully never.” He’s downtrodden. I’m sodden in rain.
I want to lie in bed today. Is that okay? What if I never get up? What if I forget how to feel, and lie here for weeks and weeks upon end? I’m so afraid of losing my mind again.