Living in fear is a funny thing.
You're not always scared. You have points in time when you're happy or sad or confused. You have times when you feel like nothing could touch you. You have friends. You have family.
There are times when you are unexplainably happy.
But then it hits you.
The fear. The anxiety. The unwillingness to put yourself back in that situation. The knowledge that you have no choice. That you have to because you have nowhere else to go.
And then it's gone. You're free. You don't have to lock your bedroom door at night. You don't have to tiptoe around your family. You don't have to hide from that one painfully present thing.
You don't have to be afraid.
You're free to laugh and smile without everything creeping back in.
You're free to sit on your couch all day without worry of when it'll be time to retreat again.
You're free to mess around with your siblings.
Free to joke with your parents.
Free to be carefree. Free to have fun. Free to enjoy life. Free to not fear for your life at home.
But sometimes...
Sometimes that voice comes back. That nagging voice in the back of your mind telling you it will be back. That small whisper telling you it's behind you.
And then it is.
It's back and you now have nowhere to go. You begin hiding again. You begin worrying again. You begin getting angry again. You begin to feel its presence in your mind again.
You feel like you can't have fun anymore. Like you can't joke around. Like you can't be yourself. Like you have to hide everything. Like everything is crashing in on you.
You're lost. Barely keeping your head above the waves this time. Just your nose and mouth. Just enough to breathe.
Until you can't anymore. Until it's a constant presence in your life. Until you can't go anywhere because someone has to keep an eye on it. Until you have to start turning your friends away. Until your only solace is work because then you have a few hours to not think about it. Don't think about it. Focus on work. Do your job. Stay busy.
It consumes your whole being.
And this time?
You're not sure if you can escape it.
YOU ARE READING
Depressing Shit
PoetrySometimes I get in really bad mindsets. Sometimes, those mindsets lead me to write really depressing shit. This will be a book dedicated to my depressing thoughts and my updates on how I'm doing. I will be moving all of my chapters in my other books...
