the deep end of the darkness in --

Sometimes I do so well.
I’m a machine who can keep humming along, until one day, I can’t. Sometimes I think I am in constant motion and planning to avoid letting it catch me. But I cannot always outrun it. Sometimes it catches me and grips me, and I am too tired to fight.

Being alive and interacting with the world is draining. I experience sensory overload nearly everyday. I fight to function the way I’ve learned, and know I’m supposed to. I do my work. I smile. I take care of everything. I do what I’m supposed to. Just because I know that’s what I’m supposed to do.

I don’t intrinsically care about myself. I never have, and I don’t know how to. I go to work because I need my kids taken care of. I go to therapy and eat regularly because my children and my baby need me to. If I didn’t take care of myself or care about my body, then I would be hurting them. And I don’t want to. When it’s me I need to take care of, I don’t care.

Last night I felt angry, explosive, sad. I felt trapped in my body and I was uncomfortable. I wanted out so badly. I hated myself. I hated my husband. I wanted to disappear. I don’t know how to keep going.

It’s too much. It’s too difficult. It’s too much work having to keep myself functioning despite being so horribly uncomfortable just existing. I’m so easily disturbed, traumatized, and overstimulated. I hate this.

Last updated March 04, 2020