Yesterday, I had a rough morning which involved two and a half hours of sleep, caffeine, pink clouds, tears, heavy breathing, one hour and a half of being stuck to a bench, paralysis and strangers’ voices. Ol’ Insomnia has knocked on my door once again and in all my loneliness, I let her in, hoping she would help distract me. Of course, she ran in and, first things first, kicked Rest out of my bed so she would be the one to hold me all night long.
I know that anxiety don’t mix well with sleep deprivation nor coffee. But what am I supposed to do when my brain won’t shut up at night and I end up having three to four hours of sleep on a good day? I need that coffee to help me walk to the university to attend classes that I actually won’t attend fully if at all (I’ll let you guess which has been the most common scenario lately…). And as much as I know how bad an idea it is, I’ll do it because I’m exhausted from all the previous anxiety waves and also obviously from the lack of sleep inflicted by revived insomnia. But these two elements added together will only make me weaker, both physically and mentally, and therefore more prone to anxiety fits & co.
Then, no matter what I’ll try, be it breathing exercises, rational thinking (say what?), counting to ten and whatnot, it’ll happen. It’ll happen again and I’ll be trapped; trapped inside a bag of flesh and bones that cannot move anymore unless it is to shake; trapped within a mind that is pretty mad at me at that moment and doesn’t value me, only wishes to beat me up and bury me.
When I feel my toes again and when I manage to unglue my arms/hands to my face and look up enough to see it, I’ll slowly move towards the closest exit. My feet will then engage in autopilot and I’ll walk endlessly until the tears dry and my body cools down. Then I’ll somehow manage to drag the empty shell that I have suddenly become to my room with next to no energy. And I’ll be drained for the day, unable to do much at all. And I’ll try to sleep but it just won’t work because, no matter how tired, I still drank a cup of coffee when I woke this morning and that was barely two hours ago so the caffeine hasn’t left my worn out veins. So I’ll lie down on my bed or most likely the floor for a few hours, lifeless, emotionless; drained.
I’m stuck in an endless sea of vicious cycles. Each time I get out of one, I end up in another one and so on until it’s back to square one.
So tell me, what’s the use of trying if it never changes?
This is all my fault. All of these horrible struggles I go through everyday are in my head. It’s my design, I create them. And if I can’t stop them, pause them or tame them, who the fuck can? Nobody else should actually. This is my mess, my burden, my gift to myself.
Happy birthday to me
I’m just so tired of it all. I keep trying and trying, sure, sometimes less than others, but I still do to some extent. And I keep failing one way or another. It always ends up burying me and I lose myself under this big pile of bullshit. All the trying does is wear me out. I’ll push the boulder up the hill, as far as I can depending on what strength the previous day has left me and what little more the present one gave me. I’ll push it everyday just to be crushed over and over as it rolls back down and I’m left to start over. Maybe I’d have moved half a millimeter away from my original position, but what is that compared to torment I had to live through to get there. It may feel like a lot but in reality, I barely would have moved, and I can’t be fooled anymore. It’s all so ridiculous and I feel like a madman going up that hill over and over (no offense, Sisyphus 😉 ).
But you know why I keep trying? Because there’s a sweet aftertaste to misery’s sourness, and I like it as much as I hate it. It’s been part of my life for a while now and it’s the one thing that never changes, never leaves and always will come back. In all this mayhem, all this going back and forth from light to darkness, my demons are the stability that, funny enough, keep me from falling apart as they tear me apart. People leave one way or another, but my demons they never leave. The storm gets old and then new again but it’s never gone.
Oh, as I’m at loss for words after typing all these thoughts, I’ll end this post with a Garbage song which is in fact really in relation with that post. There you go:
And FYI, Metallica did a cover of that song and, well, it rocks too! ❤