(no subject)
It's 1:48pm on a cloudy Thursday and I can feel the bar of xanax kick in and melt down the sharp edges of my thoughts. I used to only take the pills when I was in a fit of sheer panic but these days I find myself reaching for the bottle as early as noon.
There's this old record player in my head that plays the same shitty record on repeat. The record is broken and the sound is so full of static that I'm constantly gritting my teeth. I've got a loop of thoughts filled with hate and despair and pity and shame and embarrassment. I try to shut it off or distract myself. I can't read, I can't sleep, I can't focus. So I take the pills. The pills turn down the volume of the record, make it less deafening.
It's 1:56pm on a cloudy Thursday and I've already smoked at least 4 bowls. The high dulls the physical pain that my mind inflicts on my weakened body. The aches in my joints from getting no physical activity other than walking from my room to the fridge and back. The deep pressure in my chest, like being trapped under the weight of a grand piano. The stinging burn where my heart is, heavy with grief. By about 2pm I'll have smoked myself into a nap and I'll have moments of blissful sleep before the dog barks and I wake up to the same shitty record playing over and over.
Panic, fear, anger, shame, pity, embarrassment. Rinse and Repeat.
Depression is ruining me.
There's this old record player in my head that plays the same shitty record on repeat. The record is broken and the sound is so full of static that I'm constantly gritting my teeth. I've got a loop of thoughts filled with hate and despair and pity and shame and embarrassment. I try to shut it off or distract myself. I can't read, I can't sleep, I can't focus. So I take the pills. The pills turn down the volume of the record, make it less deafening.
It's 1:56pm on a cloudy Thursday and I've already smoked at least 4 bowls. The high dulls the physical pain that my mind inflicts on my weakened body. The aches in my joints from getting no physical activity other than walking from my room to the fridge and back. The deep pressure in my chest, like being trapped under the weight of a grand piano. The stinging burn where my heart is, heavy with grief. By about 2pm I'll have smoked myself into a nap and I'll have moments of blissful sleep before the dog barks and I wake up to the same shitty record playing over and over.
Panic, fear, anger, shame, pity, embarrassment. Rinse and Repeat.
Depression is ruining me.