zen and the art of self hate
have you ever had a [panic attack??]
i had an attack of realisation that presented itself to in much the same way as an attack of panic usually does.
i was sitting in the hallway outside of Psych' today, and suddenly the floor began to bend and contort. i looked around the the walls were so far away, the corridoor so long. my chest went tight and i couldnt for the life of me convince myself of where i was. it was kind of scary. i knew my brain was fucking with me, but it's like i didn't mind. i wanted it to get worse..
but anyway. i just thought. "what if it doesn't matter to me anymore??" and you know. i dont think it does. i've spent so much of my life saying "this is what i want and this is who i am and i need this to survive" that i've talked myself into believing it. and perhaps it was true, once upon a time. it's as if all the words in my head are all thats left. there's no passion. no drive. nothing in me that wants to work for it anymore. it just, doesnt matter.
and believe me, this is very hard to admit. because im terrified of not knowing what i what. or not doing something worthy. or ending up as someone i hate who doesnt know where the fuck they are or there life has gone. you know.
i had an attack of realisation that presented itself to in much the same way as an attack of panic usually does.
i was sitting in the hallway outside of Psych' today, and suddenly the floor began to bend and contort. i looked around the the walls were so far away, the corridoor so long. my chest went tight and i couldnt for the life of me convince myself of where i was. it was kind of scary. i knew my brain was fucking with me, but it's like i didn't mind. i wanted it to get worse..
but anyway. i just thought. "what if it doesn't matter to me anymore??" and you know. i dont think it does. i've spent so much of my life saying "this is what i want and this is who i am and i need this to survive" that i've talked myself into believing it. and perhaps it was true, once upon a time. it's as if all the words in my head are all thats left. there's no passion. no drive. nothing in me that wants to work for it anymore. it just, doesnt matter.
and believe me, this is very hard to admit. because im terrified of not knowing what i what. or not doing something worthy. or ending up as someone i hate who doesnt know where the fuck they are or there life has gone. you know.