My Thought Spiral

No#1

Hello reader.
How has your day been? Certainly hope it was better than mine. In the midst of a grandmother being ushered to the hospital and binging through Netflix in the same ordinary and non-special way one could spend their day. Unless they are productive, which I am not. Three things that occupied my mind besides that; last year, phantom effect and death.
You see there's gonna be a lot of mentions about how "things were last year." Less of mention, more of whining. I mean you're reading this and you can make me sound however you like, but if you want to know how it has been conducted in it's actual form, it was whining. Then again, love, no pressure. I may be writing all of this but you also have control in this place. Now before I stray off to something else, let's get back to last year.
Last year, oh wait. It's no longer 2018. What I mean is, in 2017, I went through a very very tough period. There is no way I can present this (or that I know how to) in typed form without looking like something you've read before. I'd like to argue that being unique in thought is very rare anyways though.
Anyhow, I was depressed beyond understanding, it was the hardest thing that hit me. I actually had to fight off the urge to want to kill myself. I self harmed, had nightmares for days in a row with bare sleep. I'll let you decide and wander off with your brain of how it was for me because it is quite frankly hard to describe the specific way I felt.
You see, it's 2019 now, I had stopped being or feeling in such an extreme way by June 2018. The thoughts however haven't left me even if they occupy me in their own harmless way. Kind of like when you lose a limb but the feeling of it being there never leaves you. Which is where the Phantom effect comes in. The thoughts themselves, the original ones are absent. But, I felt them long enough for them to be a part of me, which they were, but you get what I mean (or I hope you do). So now even though I no longer feel existence as being seated on a medieval torture chair covered in spikes penetrating in my skin or wake up at 3 am because of some realistic nightmare, I feel it. I feel the absence of it, the silence of it more like. So here I shall quote, in my attempt to best explain it;
"Even the silence has a story to tell you." - Jacqueline Woodson

Oh, and death because my insane desire of death got replaced by an overwhelming and unprecedented fear of it. Cue quote;
"From even the greatest of horrors irony is seldom absent." - HP Lovecraft

Maybe it's because I'm scared of oblivion or aware that I won't have the best After-Life. Or maybe just my brain's horrible attempt at fixing things or using reverse psychology to making me love life. It has worked but it couldn't drive away what's messed up. I would describe myself as a euphemism really. My condition right now is simply is a mild expression of what's extreme and harsh or unpleasant.
Dear Reader, I hope you stayed till this part. If you did, thank you. And sweet dreams. I'll let us both sleep with a little ray of light. Tonight we sleep under the same sky, so massive and appreciable that our worries are microscopic if only we were to be able to view them from a vast distance. But that's what the present does with the past. And we'll wake up to these thoughts as a past, not a distant one but it's pleasing to know the "distant" part of this past of mine is in the works.