Two prisons
I have two prisons.
One is my head, one is life.
My head is a prison in three ways. First, there's a bunch of stuff I can't talk about. To anyone. So it stays there, no matter how badly it wants to get out. Second, there's stuff I want to say but have no outlet to say it. Creative stuff. Music, writing, whatever. I lack the resources or skills to do anything about it. So it sits there, rotting. Third, there's stuff I can say, but it just brings pain to people around me. Jenn suffers that the most. I either bring her down, or stress her out, or otherwise make her life hard. I'm trying VERY hard to just learn to shut up. Be quiet. Me talking rarely leads to anything of any use to anyone. I either cause trouble or harm, or annoy. So all of this just stays locked up in there, nowhere to go, no way out, doing time.
Life is the other one. My days amount to nothing. I've killed so much time I've run out of ways to kill it. Either my body or my brain or my resources or my finances keep me from doing anything useful or constructive with my time, those are the bars in my cell. Just like the bars keep a prisoner from doing anything besides watching the time pass, those bars keep me stuck in my cell.
If Jenn needs something, I do it. Drive her somewhere, needs me to run an errand, etc. I do minor chores around the house when my 'bars' mentioned before allow me to. Beyond that, I try to amuse myself. It's harder and harder to do that. Severe depression is the sick joke here: I have extremely few outlets of joy, and it makes sure I don't find joy in even those few things. I'm actually pretty bored with the video games I have. Me, bored with games. Yeah, that should tell you something.
So I sit here doing time. I know -exactly- what it feels like to be in jail, minus some of the more unpleasant aspects of jail time. But the 'you're here until someone lets you out' part? I know that -really- well. To push the analogy further, I keep getting put up for parole, but they shoot me down each time, usually with no reason given. Just makes the time harder. It'd almost be easier if they just threw away the key and left me here to rot.
I'm just waiting for the sentence in the second jail to end. Then maybe I'll be free from both of my prisons.
One is my head, one is life.
My head is a prison in three ways. First, there's a bunch of stuff I can't talk about. To anyone. So it stays there, no matter how badly it wants to get out. Second, there's stuff I want to say but have no outlet to say it. Creative stuff. Music, writing, whatever. I lack the resources or skills to do anything about it. So it sits there, rotting. Third, there's stuff I can say, but it just brings pain to people around me. Jenn suffers that the most. I either bring her down, or stress her out, or otherwise make her life hard. I'm trying VERY hard to just learn to shut up. Be quiet. Me talking rarely leads to anything of any use to anyone. I either cause trouble or harm, or annoy. So all of this just stays locked up in there, nowhere to go, no way out, doing time.
Life is the other one. My days amount to nothing. I've killed so much time I've run out of ways to kill it. Either my body or my brain or my resources or my finances keep me from doing anything useful or constructive with my time, those are the bars in my cell. Just like the bars keep a prisoner from doing anything besides watching the time pass, those bars keep me stuck in my cell.
If Jenn needs something, I do it. Drive her somewhere, needs me to run an errand, etc. I do minor chores around the house when my 'bars' mentioned before allow me to. Beyond that, I try to amuse myself. It's harder and harder to do that. Severe depression is the sick joke here: I have extremely few outlets of joy, and it makes sure I don't find joy in even those few things. I'm actually pretty bored with the video games I have. Me, bored with games. Yeah, that should tell you something.
So I sit here doing time. I know -exactly- what it feels like to be in jail, minus some of the more unpleasant aspects of jail time. But the 'you're here until someone lets you out' part? I know that -really- well. To push the analogy further, I keep getting put up for parole, but they shoot me down each time, usually with no reason given. Just makes the time harder. It'd almost be easier if they just threw away the key and left me here to rot.
I'm just waiting for the sentence in the second jail to end. Then maybe I'll be free from both of my prisons.