It is days like these which hurt the most.
The days where all emotion is drained from you
And you are left wondering why you are so very empty.
Why you are so apathetic.
And it scares you
Because you are so used to feeling one extreme or another.

I'd rather be spiraling down into a deep depression.
I'd rather be as high as a ******* kite.
At least it means I know how I'm feeling.
At least I'm not empty, wondering who I am
And where I belong, because it sure isn't here.

I can adapt to my sadness.
I can learn
To cope with the bouts of tears.
To understand my hatred of myself.
To prevent the existential crises.

I can adapt to my mania.
I can learn
To cope with the bouts of laughter.
To understand the delusional thoughts
To prevent the existential crises.

I can't adapt to emptiness
I can't learn
To cope with what?
To understand what?
To prevent what?

Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
When there is nothing being felt
There is nothing to analyse
And nothing to act on.

And to be completely honest
I am comfortable in my instability.
It may be horrible.
It may make me doubt my worth.
It may make me want to die.
It may make me want to take over the world.
But I doubt I could live out my life
Feeling as empty as I do now
Without ending it all.
And I hate to say that
My mental illness saved my life
Although I'm not as grateful as I should be
For something that saved me
Because it destroyed me as simultaneously.