Darkness. It's all I saw for the longest time. But years have passed since I was buried into the darkness with whispering voices all around. The voices won't leave but at least they are somewhat quieter.
I want to leave this place, find my own "home". But how can I do that if I don't have green colored evil called money.
I'm trapped. Trapped until things happen. I can beg, plead, pray and will it as much as I want; nothing changes. People say "You are the one in control" I feel OUT of control.
Medication. The 4 pills I must consume to feel "normal". What is normal? My assumptions are that you can wake up and not worry if the voices will try to take over. Or being able to simply get up and do housework.
Empty. Dark. Lonely. Pain. Self-inflicted. Slow death.
Normalcy. It is not something I have, nor something I can achieve. The darkness lingers on the edges of my vision.
It has been years since I was all alone. But the pain never ended. It became bearable. One day, the pain and voices and darkness will all be a dream.
Until then I must endure it all. But I will not do it alone. Thankfully, i have others to lean on when needed. I'm not alone anymore.
I will survive the monster I call my mental illnesses.
I HAVE to survive.
