Cheating death; Getting caught.

August 30, 2014 § Leave a comment


This<That

I didn’t close my eyes. I didn’t breathe it in. I didn’t feel it dance and twist in my blood. I did push that accelerator deep to the floor in the hope that I would feel the fear again. I didn’t whistle or sing. I didn’t scream or shout. I didn’t dance or run or move. I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t. I just sat there. I excepted to feel it wash over me but to be honest I didn’t even feel that. I knew I was a mess but my caring had slipped and gone. I knew I was approaching a crossroads and I knew that my indifference would steer me towards the darker path. I read so much about it. Volumes and pages and everything I could find. It was all documentations. It was all just a mirror reflecting back at me. I saw myself in every word but not a single one offered an answer. There were no answers and there was no hope. Just reinforcement that I was fucked. I was gone. I was cut ablaze. I was falling with a broken chute, asleep, indifferent to that warm, comfy looking pavement coming up at me. It doesn’t even feel dark any more. There’s a strange comfort. “I think you should see someone about this.” Says the girl who knows. Maybe she’s right. But what would they do? Pills? That’s just cheating. Who gives a fuck anyway? When did I start getting through days? When did it all happen? I don’t sleep any more. I just lie down and stare at the dark. 

That’s the problem with depression. That’s the bit no one talks about. You slip into a cycle and it stops you from caring about getting out. You get dark and you loose your friends. You stop caring. You start to really feel like your just a shadow of you. A ghost. I don’t laugh any more. It’s stop slipping and spilling out of me and now it’s just a dark whole that I’m at the bottom of. Fuck it. I’m even tired of this now. I’m done. Like, really, really. Done. 

Just a touch darker, isn’t it friend? 

 

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