I’m crying, I’m screaming, I’m clawing at the walls, falling off the edge. Deep deep down where the love you feel for your dearest is, there’s this thing called… Uhh, Jim. Jim thinks it’s hilarious to pick you up by your ankles and slam you onto concrete over and over. People seriously expect me to act human but I don’t even feel human. This darkness in me burns like the brightass fire shooting from the sun. Over and over I turn ideas around in my head, with dreams of lollipops and normality but instead I’m having a panic attack, just like last July, and let me say I can relate to so many Korn songs now…It’s like Jim is every vice I’ve ever had, every bad thought that I wished to erase, every horrific detail of things that have happened to me–those play over and over and over in my head.
I’m in a very dark place. I try to scream but I’m inaudible. I walk through the gross water in this here cave until I stumble for hours, finally finding to wear the cave opens. The cave is quickly filling with water and I was supposed to drown but my instincts made me try to keep fighting. But now every time I take a step it’s like feeling every single horrible feeling I’ve ever had, with the voices laughing in my head and the dizziness I got when my thoughts would spin out of control. Taking another step, I feel a horrible, horrible physical pain. A giant-ass spike thing was stuck in my leg. Then I hear someone else from the cave shout “You were never worth it!” and their laughter is the last thing I hear while they drown. It echos in my head, it echos in my chest, it makes me dizzy and it’s really hard. It’s been getting so hard to talk about any of this, because it never comes out right. But the fact that I had a giant spike stuck in my leg AND I WAS STILL CRAWLING FORWARD, then I step on an even bigger spike and it slices my leg open, damaging important arteries and stuff. Then somehow, in my head alone, I hear the screams again. “You never tried! You’re purely conceited and not worth anything!” BUT I STILL KEEP DRAGGING ON!!! bUT THAt doesn’t matter, okay? Because the voices in my head were only drowned out when I was drinking but I thought I was making a smart decision by quitting it. But now I drag myself across a flaky pebble road, getting so many rocks stuck in my leg and I can feel the lifelessness rising to my body, but no.I don’t care. I’m always going to be in pain. It’s horrible and it’s hard but instead of drinking myself to death I write on here. Is that even the smarter option?
When I finally arrived at the end of the pebble road I graciously noticed a bus station not far from where I was. I tried so hard to start dragging myself again but then all the sudden everything was so bright and I passed out. I was about to die. I was rushed to the hospital but I was already dead. They revived me, but looking back, I think I was dead long before any of this even started. I think when they revived me they gave me a second chance with my assets and I was told to use them correctly this time, and I said I would. And now everyday when I look in the mirror, I see the girl I once was, with a terrified expression on her face. Her reflection is next to mine and with every small movement she makes she’s telling a story. It’s like those movies with all those possessed things, she was definitely acting oddly completely terrifying. But even though the movements she made were slight I for some reason understood all of it, everything. She told me it isn’t over. She told me that she knows she’s already coming back. I could feel that she was coming back. I have made so much progress but I’ve still always had her in my head. So what did I do? I layed on my bed while silent tears flowed crazily down into my ears, and then I picked my laptop up and started writing.
Her negative energy will always be a key part of my life. Balance.
So thus ends the reign of Abby, and here we continue on with life acting as if she were never so darn evil to begin with. And with my second chance, I now have better coping skills, and that’s exactly what this blog post is.
All of this is kinda fiction because I was basically just making a very long metaphor, but the feeling I have inside me somewhat remains the same.
Worry Just Enough 