Going Crazy

I feel like I’m slowly slipping away from this world. Or the reality that everyone else is a part of. I’m heading towards my own little stratosphere where different rules apply and nothing that would make sense to other people makes sense to me.

This world is hidden deep inside me. Sometimes I forget its existence and live in this world, but then at times I slip back into that reality and its nurturing warmth. Or actually it feels cold, for I know I’m heading that way because my heart goes cold and my mind get numb and absolutely nothing matters anymore.

It’s those times when I do something that gives my physical pain – I guess I try to stay in this reality. I really don’t care what people think, they don’t belong to my little world and they don’t know what happens to me in that world so it’s not even worth it trying to tell anyone.

I think sometimes some people have gotten closer to my inner core, I almost imagine myself as a big circle with layers and smaller circles inside each other; like a tree and its circles that tell the age. Most people inhabit the outer circles of my existence, and these people are treated to smiles, funny stories, jokes and laughter.

Then there have been people who have felt safe to me and I have allowed them to dig deeper into the inner circles and inhabit the space there. It’s much darker and unexpected changes may happen, much like the journey into the center of the Earth. Lots of heat and ruptures, surging matter, and constant chaos.

These people sometimes take it, sometimes not. Some have continued the journey deeper in despite the troubles, but I know no one will ever get in. Sometimes a person says or does something that goes against my beliefs about how they should behave or act towards me, and they get kicked right out back to the outer layers or outside the circles and it’s much harder to come back in once you’ve been kicked out.

Some I kick out of my little world for good and they will never be allowed into my life. This is an effective way of keeping order within my little bubble, and it works for me. It makes no sense to other people but that’s just how it is. It makes so much sense to me.

I feel like I’m inside my own bubble, I am in the center of the universe deep inside my own head and I don’t wanna come out. Nothing matters, my life, people, the world. I feel cold and numb to my core, I am plagued by constant thoughts of how to end this whole thing and how I just wish I wasn’t a coward and scared of pain.

I know I won’t ever kill myself. I have responsibilities. I would leave behind embarrassing journals and diaries, personal stuff that’s not meant for anyone else’s eyes. I also feel like I haven’t fulfilled my purpose yet, whatever that purpose is. But it’s really hard to keep going on when nothing feels like it matters. I don’t ever want to do anything ever again, and it doesn’t really help that I have a job interview for a high-flying sales role tomorrow morning right after therapy, and I’m meant to have my game face on.

I know I can do it. I fake shit all the time. I pretend I’m okay when I’m not, that I’m happy when I’m not, and I get weird sick satisfaction from fooling people. If I’m hurting but I smile and people believe that smile, I feel powerful beyond imagination. I am able to be whatever I want to be and no one will ever have a clue of how I’m really feeling inside. It gives me great joy…

I remember one birthday when I was in college; I was really depressed and down and had strong suicidal thoughts, and was drinking alone in my dorm room and cutting my wrists. Then one girl from the dorm came knocking on my door and led me outside blindfolded where everyone else had gathered to sing happy birthday for me and there was tea lights on the lawn and cake to share and all I could do was smile and say thank you when inside I was dying.

One can always hide the scars. I am the queen of long-sleeved tops and cutting in places where no one can see the thin red lines. It gives me joy when someone hugs me and the pressure on a freshly-cut wound stings, yet I manage to smile because I’m meant to be happy. They will never ever know what lies underneath. And I like to keep it that way.

Must go. I’m alone in my room and I want to listen to sad songs, cry, wallow in my deep thoughts, and enjoy my own time when I have to impress no one, please no one, and smile at…you guessed it, no one.








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