I am a lost child. Lost between the lining of sanity and insanity. Lost between the spirit and the body. I am a troubled individual. Sometimes I wish that I was someone ignorant to the wonders of life and the mental barriers we place on ourselves. As of 2:27AM on August 9, 2017 I am sitting exhausted. Yet when I feel exhausted I feel energized. I begin to lose touch with my physical body and being sliding in between that middle line. I can close my eyes and hear voices and noises. The noises are difficult to describe. They are like brief slide whistles and occasional soft laughter. I create happiness within my own head because sometimes I feel I cannot find it outside of my mind. I feel I have found happiness but it is taken away within an instant by my own brain.
I am an individual that sometimes talks more than I should. Even when I feel like I shouldn't be talking my mouth begins to move. I am disconnected from my body and the only thing I have found that explains how I feel is Depersonalization. This results from trauma or anxiety. My body has placed itself on red alert. Funny thing is I have been on red alert for about 4 years. I have not truly felt emotions of happiness, love, sadness as I believe a real human would. I feel a fraction of it, then I feel despair because I know I'm not truly feeling. The only times I feel relatively connected to my body is late at night - like right now. It's an odd thing because I feel sadness due to memories that only surface at times like these when the brain is weak and vulnerable. But I love this sadness. It's the truest form of myself. I am a mystery to myself and others. I have many secrets some of which I feel I must take to the grave. Some of my secrets could put me in jail, some would have me antagonized, some could get me praised, and some could possibly get me killed. I have lived an interesting life so far I must say. I feel like some of the problems I have are in my hands. There are things I can stop doing to not feel how I do. But there is nothing I can do to fix things I've done in the past, but if I had been different in the past I would be different now. The future is only based on the present state of the universe. Would I truly want to be different? The few people who are closest to me would abandon me if I told them what I have been involved in or what I have seen or derived pleasure from seeing or doing.
Death does not touch me as it should. I don't fear death. Sometimes I hope it comes for me. I have hoped and asked for it countless times. I honestly feel this will be an unfinished memoir of my life before I either lose control and take my own life or death comes for me in any other format. But I feel it will be soon. I can feel empty inside. I can feel full with what I think is happiness one minute and in an instant I will feel the complete opposite. A psychologist would tell me that it is due to chemical imbalances in my brain which pills can balance. But the pills are a temporary fix. Am I to die feeling this disconnected?
I have ruined other people's lives. I have made young women love me and hate me in a very short amount of time. Although in the end I am the one that is truly hurt. I hurt so many people I hold all the pain on my own shoulders. I am the bearer of what feels like all of humanity's burdens. While those females learned about themselves because of what I had done to them, later I also learned about myself. Self-realization is a strange, complex thing. An optimistic person looks at their past and says "The past is unable to be rewritten, so I have to make the future better". A pessimistic person says "I will always be that person, I hurt people and no matter what I do it won't change". But I am forever lost in between. I am lost between sanity and insanity, reality and the world of spirituality, pessimism and optimism. I have found people to help me deal with myself. I now understand the root of some of my problems.
Although I have both of my parents in my house (a house and a home are two very different things) it has mostly felt to me like they are roommates. I never got close to my father and my mother has mental problems of her own. For about 24 years my father has dealt with this ticking time bomb that is my mother. She is ungrateful, she is rude, she is capricious, she is mentally sensitive, and aggressive. My mother is one entire problem of her own.
