(no subject)
So now then, what’s this, after this crazy, country-hopping year, all this adventure, what have I learned?
I’ve learned that home no longer exists but heaven does, however short it lasts.
I’ve learned that hell is a structure of my own making, and this time I’ve really built it well. Seven months and counting, and I’m sad to say that I haven’t done a better or longer job working on anything else.
I’ve learned that depression is not as deeply psychologically rooted in me as it is in others, though it is there. I can be in a state of overwhelming bliss in some places but in terrible, uncontrollable, forever-sinking deep misery in others.
I also know that the longer I stay hidden in happiness the sturdier and more weathered those walls will become; and I deserve it; and I will stay there; and I will not know what to do to fix it because the entire time my thoughts will be concentrated on how to escape those walls, not how to tear them down.
If I could burn them or bury them or build over them I would in an instant-its not easy to carry around that much guilt, to know that at any moment the floor will give out and you will fall.
And I deserve it. I know that.
But the walls are not stone on one side and sticks on the other. Maybe they were built at different times but I can tell the other side is solid, maybe even more so than my sad side. But since I cannot see exactly what that side is made of, I cannot dicern how to break it down.
And so I stay on my side, and you on yours, with the walls increasingly higher, the easiest option always remains to flee.
I’ve learned that home no longer exists but heaven does, however short it lasts.
I’ve learned that hell is a structure of my own making, and this time I’ve really built it well. Seven months and counting, and I’m sad to say that I haven’t done a better or longer job working on anything else.
I’ve learned that depression is not as deeply psychologically rooted in me as it is in others, though it is there. I can be in a state of overwhelming bliss in some places but in terrible, uncontrollable, forever-sinking deep misery in others.
I also know that the longer I stay hidden in happiness the sturdier and more weathered those walls will become; and I deserve it; and I will stay there; and I will not know what to do to fix it because the entire time my thoughts will be concentrated on how to escape those walls, not how to tear them down.
If I could burn them or bury them or build over them I would in an instant-its not easy to carry around that much guilt, to know that at any moment the floor will give out and you will fall.
And I deserve it. I know that.
But the walls are not stone on one side and sticks on the other. Maybe they were built at different times but I can tell the other side is solid, maybe even more so than my sad side. But since I cannot see exactly what that side is made of, I cannot dicern how to break it down.
And so I stay on my side, and you on yours, with the walls increasingly higher, the easiest option always remains to flee.