Musings on Life from a Dead Girl

One of Those Nights

It's been a long time since I've had one of these nights.
Up late paralyzed by dread
Anxiety practically seeping out of my pores
Tears pricking my eyes
My mind endlessly replaying every hurt
I fall back into my old ways of coping
I listen to music
Music, I haven't listened to since middle school
I wonder if the songs triggered my panic or if the panic triggered the music
Either way I'm back to being 14 years old
I'm in the same room
different bed
Different clothes
New scars
But same old me
I can still feel the way it felt to dream
The freedom I felt listening to my own music
Sure, it was on YouTube then and I had to skip adds in between
I remember what it felt like not to know what my life was going to be like
Now I look back on those days I dreamt about and all I feel is regret
The hope rising in my throat, blocking my oxygen and choking me out
I think of how I could have done things differently
Hope threatens me again
It says I still have time
That I can change
And then I remember that I can barely get myself to work and back
How is it that after 8 years I am still up at midnight
All of my ways of coping failing me
I find myself rocking back and forth in the way my sister hates
I keep thinking of the past
It makes me sick
I want to scream
So, what if I wake up the whole house?
What else can they do to me?
I listen to Sabrina Carpenter and Emerson Drive
Soundtracks and inspiration for novels I still have not finished
What have I done with all this time?
I've wasted my life.
What do I have to show for it?
I am so ashamed of myself.
I am still up at Midnight listening to shitty music crying my eyes out because I still can't sleep.
I am so tired.