Stream of Consciousness: Depression

Darkness has arms to hold me a little to tightly. Its coming back again. Wake up. Wake up. But for what purpose? I keep biting the insides of my cheeks afraid I will be heard. It cant keep going like this. Wake up. I’m not asleep but im drowning here. In this pit of my own destruction. Nightmare. I am living a nightmare day to day. The sun has lost its muse and desire. Evaporated becoming nothing but a cigarette butt in the ashtray. The days are too long. Hour by hour. A minute passes. Ten minutes. Twenty. Twenty four hours later and I am more than awake sitting upright in a hospital bed with two iv’s in my arm feeding me mucomyst and in the other an abundance of gravel. Overdose. The lady with her hair pulled into a ponytail and wears concern tells me that if I am going to be sick it will happen within the first hour and she was right. Wake up. I am still here. She was right. I unplug the machinery with my shaken uneasy hands, my groggy eyes are distorted while attempting to walk a straight line towards the bathroom which hasnt been cleaned all night. The stench makes me vomit even more. I can hear the intoxicated yells in the hallway, and I wish I was too. But im not I am more sober than ever. My stomach is folding over itself trying to claw out my insides. Toxic blood levels. We are trying to save your liver. Alone in adult emergency. No mother or father. No sister or brother. Just me and my iv flushing out my system. Bruised arms from being poked with needs. In and out of hospital. No one likes it here. Between I’m okay and not okay. Between I cant take this anymore and its just too much. Smile. Smile wide. Keep on smiling. Just make them happy. No questions asked. My bones are weak and frail. Exhaustion keeps me like a prisoner. Everything is greyscale. Acid on my tongue vomit on my fingers. What have I done. You’re alone but this room is crowded. I overslept and I haven’t slept enough. I forgot to brush my teeth and my hair is greasy. Ive worn these jeans two weeks in a row without washing them. I walk. I keep walking. Until everything aches even more. This was never easy. I exist. I survive. Abandonment. I love you and I hate you. I hate you please don’t leave me. Fear spins me like a tilt-a-whirl. My face is red when speaking. My words don’t come out the way I want them to. Every thing is coming out in ink blots. Wake up. Wake up. Everything is dull. My empty stomach wants me to feed it. Fists of shame punch me harder and harder. Abused by the illness I cant seem to let go of. My ears ring. Everything is loud. Voices scream numbers. Calories. Self worth measured by the scale. The hurt. The pain multiplies taking up space. Too much space. I write. I write and I never stop writing. I cant get out of bed today. I am covered in a fort of blankets engulfed in isolation and sobbing tears. I left my house today and that was enough. I brushed my teeth I had a shower and I left my house. That was enough. I am enough. There is a sudden smile. It doesn’t last long. It is there though. Until everything thunderstorms around me. All my missing pieces end up cutting me into nothingness.

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