I am just me mostly because I probably would fail miserably at being someone else. I am to young to think of myself as old but old enough to know better. I originally started this (the previous posts were written and saved to the computer long ago) to help people understand what a depressive goes through. What it feels like to tell someone that yes you know you are in fact crazy. To feel things so deeply that you know that your heart is breaking and still have to look up and smile at those who will never feel that much.
It is passion, its love, its self-loathing, its knowing that it will never stop. It is watching others around you in their happy lives who look at you as if you have grown an extra head when you can’t be like them. Its knowing you are going to die by your own hand or by someone else’s before you are old.
Its finding people who are dangerous to you and tempts them to do things that are dangerous including putting their hands around your throat when they are out of control. Its having a gun pointed at your chest and taking the step forward so you know if they pull the trigger that they won’t miss and they know it too, your eyes daring them to do it. Its having the person with the gun back up because they see something in your eyes that says “go ahead,” giving them permission, absolution, and forgiveness.
Its knowing that it won’t ever stop until you stop breathing and begging for that day to come.