Sometimes the human condition can cause the body to retch for release. Nothing is actually wrong. You will not run fevers or have a flu. Nothing could be measured to excuse you from work or class. While you sit there covered in sweat you will start to hate yourself. I have spent hours contemplating how much easier it might be to explain that I have cancer. “I am fine I just have a terminal illness”.- Immediate release will follow from any and all commitments for the foreseeable future. – “Just take care and get some rest”- These words stop coming after a while for someone like me.
The system is meant to dispose of me- It tells me that I am the fault and founder of my issues and -please move because others are more than willing to continue in your place.
I either sleep for 3 hours after hiding in the safe space of night- Or- I sleep for 13 hours and miss every meal for two days.
Honestly, I have considered that I must have the answers inside somewhere. This is my own mind trying to find any reason for the continued existential collapse.
“Fix it. Fix it. Fix it! Now- No…Don’t read another book…stop writing…what the fuck are you doing you are making things worse- NO A NAP IS NOT A GOOD IDEA CLEAN THE FUCKING ROOM THERE ARE ANTS!”
I get anxious and laugh because I never realize it until it is a level 9- I currently run on a 6 for my “normal”.
I move- I have moved across country at least 10 times. 1200 Miles is my magic number….nothing ever under 800. (once it was only 3 hours-)
I get this internal itch that makes me jump on my bicycle randomly and ride for 10k like it was a jog around the block.
I go to the gym 4-6 days a week in addition to riding my bike everyday because all this energy is useless -yet it is certain to make me explode if I do not burn it off….it will burn me.
Reading a book will trap me into whatever mood it leads me to for days- No one understands why I am mourning a lover I have never had….I lie.
I play the same song 12 hours for any emotional regularity it might give….
The issue with being so aware- (on any level) is that I wish I wasn’t. It would be easier to “be” if I did not know I was.
At one point in time you quit talking to people at any level above “Hi how are you”?- It is easier to just smile and ask if there is coffee.
I’m sick of myself.
I question when I will live in a way that might not feel so intense. I am not a teen…I am not in my twenties – Why here and now must the thoughts from then grow, evolve, learn new hindering tricks and seep through the coats I wear?
Cheers to more layers.