Contrast 

The sky is purple

The grass gleams green

The contrast made it seem to me; 

I am suffocating 

I am no longer free-flowing 

My soul needs to breathe

My mind needs to heal 

I need time 

Time to configure the distortion

Between life;

And reality 

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Classical Conditioning

I took a walk before entering my house, alone in the dark. My feet splashed in the puddles of the cracked sidewalks, and cars passed by as a reminder that most do not see my existence. During that moment, I was not paying attention to how alone I was. I was paying attention to the attempt to not be overwhelmed.

A man was standing on his dimmed-light porch, so I took a turn to avoid him.  I tried to keep walking, but I only wanted to fall to the ground.

I quickly made my way back home, passing two young kids that I wanted to embrace. I could not go inside, and let my family see the tears streaming down my face. So, I made it into my backyard.

It was raining harder now, as I leaned my back against my cold shed. I took my jacket off, even though it was getting cold, but at that moment I had no idea why. My knees got weaker, so I allowed myself to slide my back down until I was sitting on the pavement, letting the rain hit my face and bare arms. The conscious part of me was focusing on the raindrops, and how they were the only thing making me feel like a person.

Finally, I made it into my room swiftly. Right before doing something drastic, my mother interrupted my thought process. It did not go well, causing me to leave.

I allowed myself to scream like a banshee in the comfort of my carpeted car seat, letting all of the emotion I could not comprehend out at once. It seemed nonstop, and there seemed like there was nothing else that I could do.

I ran through the places that I could go for comfort, but they all were too far away. I thought of all of the people I could seek comfort in, but they all were too far away.

After the crying, there was a blank stare of mine through the windshield, only feeling alone now.

During this current moment, now; I am furious at the person that conditioned me to feel like I need someone “sane” to watch over me when I am upset, because I have no idea what I should feel.

Why I Thought That I Knew

I know that “what is”

Is

Because;

I have never been ideal at sorting

Through my millions of thoughts

 

The causes of my regret;

And probable mistakes

Are in fact the reason

For this mess that I have made

 

I think about you;

Day and Night

I love you more than your silhouette

That I can recognize

In the dark;

Or light

 

Right now I stand back;

I will not say a word

Again

Though;

I love you

The most that I can

 

Though;

It is my fault

That your hand is not mine

I can not suffocate you

But;

I will suffer in time

 

I will still get to see you grow;

But;

It will hurt watching in distance

 

You are no ones

I wish that I could know what “it is”

If I could have made it different

 

It would be easier

Because;

You know what is right

Tell me what to do

Because;

I am tired of this fight

 

With you;

I can conquer the world

But I must conquer the fear first

 

 

Dear Hopefulness,

I drove past, seeing you in front of the old brick building, smiling as you talked to your new-found sunshine. For years, I had hoped to be your first sunshine. Never before did I think I would even want to say; “hello” but, today was rough and things are different now. I parked around the block, rushing in the cold with only a light jacket, just to give you a surprise embrace. The last time I had hugged you, we both had tears in our eyes.

When I made it around the corner, passing one or two of the local shops; I was left standing in the middle of the sidewalk, in the middle of a town I have never had a desire to be in. I wanted to cry, feeling rejection.

I reminded myself, that it was not rejection. It was only a failed surprise. I think I was only disappointed because I did not get to see how you would have reacted.

Things are different now, so I know that you will be back;

Father.

The Gray Area

I have no shame in saying that, the night before I was able to take this picture; I had one of the biggest meltdowns of my life. Choking on my sobs, I could not be alone. So, I drove two hours north to spend the night at a life-long friends house. Him and his girlfriend (whom I also consider a lovely friend) gave me a room full of warmth to sleep in, and lots of love. I could not have asked for more. 

After a wonderful night of sleep, I had to leave to head back “home”. During the drive back home, there was nothing but thick fog. Where this picture was taken, is one of my favorite tiny spots in the middle of nowhere. I have written about it before; my peaceful place. This image captures the main beauty of it that I love; it never fails to surprise me with a new look. Even with the fog, I found it beautiful. 

I can not really tell you how I have been feeling lately, at least with a solid answer. So far, this is as close as I can get.

Wasted

I remember a flower crown, lightly placed  on top of your head. I can still feel my sticky skin from the humidity of the summer evening. Laughter echos in my ears, and sometimes I can remember myself smiling.

Purity, before I began living the reality of what I once thought was living for the “more” that I once imagined.

The warmth is no longer the same, neither is the rain that we always wished for.

Here we are.

What I Think That I Know

It is strange, roaming around in a body that feeds off of having intellectual connections with people. It is weird, living with the desire to reach out to others. Yet, every conversation with depth can be compared to; “The one who got away” feeling.

It is strange, thinking that I know what I need. Yet, I distance myself from what I think that I know.

I find it odd because, the close people that I surround myself with see much deeper in me. Yet, I can hardly appreciate what is on the surface.

Something needs to be expressed, and understood by a confiding presence.

What needs to be said, I do not know.

Though, I do know that what I am, and how I am living in my head-should be said.

Soon.

Significance

I used to think that I could play a significant role in making the universe a better place. I thought that I could contribute to destroying madness. I have watched others do  it, why not me?

Not me, because I do not have the power, nor knowledge. I am not strong enough to be a part of something that is bigger than myself. I do not mind watching, encouraging, and cheering on the people who can change things. Those people, are significant to the universe, and I admire their beauty. Though, I have learned that a person like me; is only significant to themselves.

Voluntary Bystander

It keeps coming back, coming back, coming back, and coming back. Discouragement, self-doubt, and second guessing. Usually, I can find the source. Though, it doesn’t seem like there is one lately, but there has to be. I keep coming up with theories on why I am in bed relaxing, and then suddenly I feel that heavy weight on my chest, that I am sure many of you are familiar with. Meltdowns, all of the time recently, but only for five minutes max. Recently, I have been refusing to let myself have them by telling myself “not today”. Then, I begin to think if that is truly handling it. Can you tell the dark feeling to go away and it be beneficial to your mental health, mostly if you have no idea what is triggering it? It is pure torture trying to figure out why, why is this thing interrupting my day?

I keep coming up with theories, and the more I come up with; the less I want to try and think about it. Why is my ending thought always to give up? I don’t, but the thought is always there in a part of my brain that doesn’t seem conscious, something that isn’t me. I don’t want to talk about it much, because I feel like a broken record. I don’t want to seem like I am not trying to make progress, but how am I to make progress on something that I am unsure of it’s being? How do I stop my thoughts that lead me to not want to think anymore?

Friendship means everything to me, and it hurts me that I feel like I can’t talk about it to people that I have known for years. I appreciate the techniques and advice that is given, and I know that by the end of the day; It is me who is truly supposed to take care of it. The question is; what exactly am I taking care of? Am I even trying, mostly if I feel no permanent progress? I am very tired, and I have been. A part of me feels like I am trying, but a subconscious part of me begins to convince myself that I am not trying hard enough.

 

I am trying to get back into things that peek my interest, like writing and photography. I surround myself with people I love, even though the depression, or whatever it is, tries to convince me that it will be a bad time. Or that I will be a bad time. I catch myself with these thoughts, and I can shut them down now, but the feeling still lingers. My current theory is that I am disappointed with myself from still having these thoughts. Everyone around me is so beautiful, and intelligent. I admire the ones I love, and encourage them to do what they love. I am a voluntary bystander of other people’s growth, convinced that it is helping me grow.

Only I can stop it, but how? Analyzing, therapy, meditation, books?

I think that the most upsetting thing to me is that I can identify the feeling, but feel as if I can not stop it. I am scared that I will isolate myself, and not notice. I am scared that I will become distant, because it may begin to feel like what is right.

I am not sure what I am doing with this, I do not know at all. It is sort of embarrassing, expressing these thoughts. Though, if I can’t seem to do it verbally, I have a writing outlet

.Maybe that is my problem.

At this point, I am not even looking for a response. I’m just trying to get my head straight.