Numbing Waves

Bordeline

These streets are full of so many strange faces. I want to meet them all to know their stories, where they came from, what they have suffered suffered through. How did we end up in this same corner, this same room, or this same subway car? What has brought us both here at this exact moment in time?

I fear, so deeply, that I never will.

Every day, at every corner, in every room, in every subway car, I'm fighting to not kill myself. I don't even know if I truly want to die anymore. It's been so long since I felt I had a purpose. Is there reason to all this? Is there a reason I am alive right now? Why is any of this happening? There surely can't be a purpose to my life.

All those people, are they like me?

Are their smiles real? Do they truly feel happiness? Or are we all pretending we're content whilst trying to find this so called "happiness". It might be a made up concept. How will we ever know?

I don't even know why my wrists have scars. I'm not sad. I'm not angry. I'm empty. My soul, feels broken. Like it's been fighting for so long and it has finally given up. Like it was locked up in a dungeon trying to break free but after all these years it doesn't have a reason to fight for anymore. I feel absolutely nothing.

I should stop meeting people. They all seem to love being around me. I don't care for them at all. I just want to drain them of their energy, feed off their happiness. I just want to feel something. But after they fall in love with me, they break like me. I don't stick around to fix them.

I lied to you.

I do feel something. Whenever I'm not feeling a deep, gut-wrenching emptiness I feel something. It feels like I'm floating alone in a massive ocean. But the water isn't a habitable, blue, calming presence. It's so thick and dark. Darker than black. And I'm not floating. It's wrapping itself around my legs and arms. So tight the blood flow is slowly stopping. It's dragging me deeper into it, until my head is completely engulfed and I can't see the white sky I was once gazing upon. I can't even try to breathe or make a sound. Even if I could, there is no one to help me. I am so, so alone.

I only feel the panicked distraught of knowing that this is how I will die. Knowing that everything I have done is all that I will ever do because in this moment, it will all be over. Knowing that my being in this world is now non existent and any impact I had will be forgotten.

I feel this, along with my emptiness each and every day. It feels like my brain is constantly drowning in this thick dark ocean and I never get used to it. It doesn't matter what I'm doing, I feel this. When healthy people are able to do things without thinking twice of it I am perplexed. How is it that this isn't normal? I have drowned a million times before I can do what they have just done. Whether it be walking out of the door, taking the train, standing at the cashier. How do they not feel what I feel?

Why am I so broken?

But even with all this, I still doubt my suicidal thoughts. Somewhere deep within me, I think I still want to live. But I've been pretending for so long that maybe that's just me falling for my lies.

Help me.

I can't tell if I want to live or if I want to die.

Why is it that I stop myself right before I kill myself? What does any of this mean? Does it mean there's hope? Or does it mean that my constant drowning has made me fear death so deeply that I can't do it? Is my anxiety the only reason my depression hasn't killed me?

How did I get this fucked up?

**
This is what my mental disorder is amongst many other things.