In the past weeks I have tried to write honestly I have. Unfortunately everything seems to be coming out just wrong. It is like I can no longer use writing to articulate what is in my head and even the world inside me seems bleaker than normal. I can still see it, it is still there but I no longer live there. I am no longer a part of my own world. It is like looking through glass frosted over by wicked cold letting me see but not feel anything but a cold that not even my world contained. Anyone who is wondering about that world is welcome to read, more than a few posts contain glimpses of that world.
It’s like having a limb severed, being able to see it, but not feel it, not touch it. Not be a part of it. One wouldn’t expect it but it is quite painful actually. To not be in touch with something that has tortured me so beautifully, leaving me twisted and broken. It is much like not being able to touch the one that can twist you into a wonderfully broken thing and make your mind fly apart with the sheer ecstasy of it. Yeah you know who I mean. Only this is worse. That person is just a person, outside and at times replaceable. This is a part of me.
“Will it let me back in,” is the only question that I can ask because it is no longer my choice. They think that banishing the darkness with pharmaceuticals is the only way I will be free. What I don’t tell them is I like the darkness, enjoy it, it makes me whole, without it I am a ghost locked inside myself. I can’t feel, I can’t write, I can’t laugh, love, or breath. Stealing a part of me is something only a lover should do.
I have not been myself lately or rather I have been too much myself lately locked inside my own little world begging for escape. I look around at the people with me who don’t know me at all and slip back into an alternate reality that is more real to me than anything I can touch or hold but is infinitely more twisted that anything thought up on this plane.
In my world if something can think to do it, it has been done in technicolor brilliance that can only be accomplished in the mind. Things so twisted that they can only exist inside someone and they can only feast on the light and love in your soul. And feast they do. I am losing it.
I look at others, listen to them, and realize that no one has it worse or better than me because their mind might be doing it to them too. If I can hide it away from everyone but my readers they can hide it from me. Which sparks the thought, as I look at each person in turn, what horrible things is their mind doing to me as we talk. Are they similar things to what my mind is doing to them. Would they cringe away from me in horror if I told them or would they just smile at me knowingly.
Is that the same hunger or darkness I see behind their eyes? Is it the same blackness that is behind your eyes? I don’t know why you suddenly shift away only that you do. My mind instantly goes to the questions is the darkness showing, radiating off me like some twisted negative lighthouse. Or is it the blankness, the utter soulless look that is in my eyes. Does it make you think “she’s checked out?” Do you even notice? No one else does…
It has been a long time since I ran and came back. I thought I was done running and that the part of me that longs for solitude and anonymity was barricaded off along with the part of me that feels.
It has been a long time since I have felt myself breaking, splintering into more pieces than I knew were possible. It is not just here it is my home that I want to be away from. I said that would never happen again. Unfortunately I let someone in there that broke me further and despite repeated attempts to distance him from me without involving law enforcement have proved futile. He just doesn’t understand that what he is doing is hurting me or at least I hope he doesn’t understand.
If he does it just means he is a selfish leech who only wants to continue to live off of me like he has since I broke up with him several years ago. It is partially my fault because I felt bad for him and didn’t want him to be homeless but all I want now is to have him gone and my house back.
I never thought being nice could hurt me so bad for so long. It is very true no good deed goes unpunished and even though I have begged him to leave and stop leeching off of me it is going to take law enforcement to get him out.
How did I get myself into a situation where I want to run from my own home?
He knows it hurts, he knows what his refusal to leave does to me, how it breaks me a little bit further and still he chooses to torture me instead of simply leaving.
I don’t understand why my mind does what it does or comes up with what it sees. Some are brilliant inventions and I know exactly how they work and some are dark and twisted things that kill when you look directly at them. Mad killer I wait until you decide I am your victim, someone who just wanted to know what it is like to kill than I invite you to try it with the complete disclaimer that I asked you to and the estate will take care of your legal fees.