And so it is...

Here we go. I’m trying it again. Seeing what escapes my mind when I allow it to flow out of me. All I can feel is inner tension. It’s eating at me every time I breathe in and every time I breathe out, every time I blink, every time I swallow. It’s all I know. And it’s all I want. It’s better to feel sadness than feel nothing at all. And I’ve been devoid of everything before. And yet, no one would guess it to look at me. No one. Everyone sees me and thinks I’ve got it all together, got it all figured out. But I don’t. And that couldn’t be further from how I want to be. I want to feel love and joy and happiness. But I just can’t. Normal everyday things stop me in my tracks and make me feel as though the only option is to collapse and cry myself stupid. Cry myself away from everyone and everything. I feel alone in crowds and crowded alone. What are my choices then? I see none. All I want to do is space out, read depressing books, and listen to heart wrenching songs. I want to know that my feelings aren’t special and isolated to me. That other people feel what I am feeling. What happened to them? Did they overcome, or did they succumb? It used to be that every other though was about how to be happy. Now, it’s the polar opposite. It’s escaping everything by losing everything. I don’t mean possessions; I mean everything inside me. Everything that makes me, me. All I see around me are people going through the motions. Breathing in and out not out of necessity, but out of habit. And habit is not what I want. It’s not what I need. I can’t believe I’ve been here for a year. In this shitty apartment in a shitty section of shitty Brooklyn. I can’t take it anymore. I’ve been told that all I need to do is find love. Find a girl who completes me. But if I can’t offer the other half of the puzzle, how will finding a girl complete anything? It would just be something else I would lose. Something else to destroy me. I’m fragile. I pretend I’m not, but you can reduce me to rubble with a single glance, a single phrase. Now, it’s not even a word or phrase, it’s the lack of conversation that defeats me. I feel dizzy writing this and even dizzier rereading it. I feel as if I am going to pass out with the weight of these emotions. It doesn’t even feel like I am part of me anymore. I feel like I’m standing over my shoulder watching myself type this. Wanting to tell myself to snap out of it, but I can’t. I can’t even control myself. That had been the one thing in this would that was under my control before. If you can’t control yourself, what can you? It’s the only thing that truly belongs to you and the only thing someone else can’t take away. The thoughts in your head are your only possessions. And mine are running away from me faster than I can express them. If I look up, I know I’ll see that I am being suffocated by my own cloud of despair. And I don’t know what to do…