hours
I'm at a space where I am trying to make it every hour. I try not to think about the night, try not to think about moments ago. I focus on what will make me last one more hour and that is enough. I read, I play some chess, I eat if I can. When things get really rough I make myself a balloon and let it bob blissfully behind me. I'm in a lot of physical pain, partially due to sleeping curled up in a ball each night. I think I'll make it though. I've been going to my classes, passing tests, going to work. I'm not really here though.
I caught myself walking towards a moving train yesterday. I was going to get on and just go. I don't really know how I got there. All of a sudden I came back to myself and saw the train just a couple yards away, turned around to see my car idling, door not quite closed in its lane, puzzled and scared looks on faces in cars next to it. I paused, walked back to the car and waited for the train to pass.
I think I'm going to make it. Each hour is closer to being well again. I've been in this space once before. That was when I was only 12 or 13. I didn't know what to do then, I thought about suicide constantly, didn't talk to anyone. This time I don't have the desire to physically die, not like I did then anyway. I am also naked, exposed to someone. They aren’t there for me now, I sleep alone. But knowing that I am that vulnerable to them offers some strange solace.
Tonight, now, this hour. This hour is for me to try and sleep. Forget for a few short hours the turmoil in my mind, the pain in my body and the leather around my neck. Tomorrow is for me to start again taking each hour as it comes.
I caught myself walking towards a moving train yesterday. I was going to get on and just go. I don't really know how I got there. All of a sudden I came back to myself and saw the train just a couple yards away, turned around to see my car idling, door not quite closed in its lane, puzzled and scared looks on faces in cars next to it. I paused, walked back to the car and waited for the train to pass.
I think I'm going to make it. Each hour is closer to being well again. I've been in this space once before. That was when I was only 12 or 13. I didn't know what to do then, I thought about suicide constantly, didn't talk to anyone. This time I don't have the desire to physically die, not like I did then anyway. I am also naked, exposed to someone. They aren’t there for me now, I sleep alone. But knowing that I am that vulnerable to them offers some strange solace.
Tonight, now, this hour. This hour is for me to try and sleep. Forget for a few short hours the turmoil in my mind, the pain in my body and the leather around my neck. Tomorrow is for me to start again taking each hour as it comes.