I’m writing something, because something is better than nothing.
There is such a huge disconnect between various different parts of myself right now. I feel, but I can’t think about it. I’m hurting, but I can’t acknowledge it. I desperately need people, but I’ll push them away fiercely instead.
I need to write, but I can’t.
The thoughts have been dark lately, and the words hard to find. I’m doing my best to hang in there and survive, but it’s not been an easy task.
The nights threaten to kill me, and the days just aren’t all that much easier.
I’m shutting down even from myself, from my own thoughts. The walls are up inside of my own head…like my brain knows to protect itself from my mind, my thoughts.
I’m here, I’m trying. I don’t want to, but I am anyway.
So this is my something….even if it’s really nothing.