Il primo attacco di panico.
Decisi di scriverlo in inglese per renderlo un po' più "estraneo" alla mia persona, per fingere che non fosse veramente una parte di me.
Oggi so come gestire questo brutto mostro anche se non viene a trovarmi da un po'.
Respira.
Feel like the days are all the same, time is running out slowly; I can't breath for the third time, my troubled brain just wants to find peace and the only one that could give me comfort is the one that is killing me.
Thousand things to do, and not even a good minute to do them.
Memory of how it used to be, hanging out like a normal twenty girl.
Divide in two, between the willingness to be there for others, and the strong desire that the others are there for me; stuck into my world, and wanting someone to climb over my walls.
Looking out the window at the thousands of opportunities I could have, if I leaned out and looked...the fear of leaning too far, until I fall down.
The desire for those kisses that made me fell good, and the sensibleness that my pain is only in my head.
The certainly of deserving more, and the doubt of not doing enough, the drama of every exam that always seems impossible to pass.
Breath missing in my claustrophobic room, sweating cold for nowhere, and not having the energy to stand up.
Loosing my motivation, my own center, no more purpose... The days that go by, without a criterion, not knowing what day it is, not having plans for the weekend.
Panic attacks that I don't know how to manage and a wound in my heart that I don't know how to heal.
Too tired to cry, voiceless to scream, a pain that this change has not jet managed to justify.
STAI LEGGENDO
L'anima di Amnesia
ContoSolo lettere, sentimenti, stati d'animo e riflessioni di esperienze più o meno belle e dolorose. Spero che leggerle possa far sentire compreso qualcun altro, nello stesso modo in cui scriverle ha aiutato me a stare meglio.
