I’ve lost my old luxury of being able to just write without thinking. Perhaps I shouldn’t have deleted my old blog. I was able to survive for the anonymity, even though I was never more naked then I was there. Yet here, I feel like an infinite number of mismatched jigsaw puzzles that will never seem to fit. What am I even trying to say every time?
These words don’t come easily to me. I seem to be racking my brain to think of what else to write here. My mind is not chaotic. In fact, it’s too quiet. So peaceful, that maybe that’s why I feel guilty. I feel guilty for breaking apart without a valid reason. I worked so hard to get where I am today, with countless visits with my therapist and psychiatrist. There were tears, panic, and utter pain. Yet, even though I was terrified of where I was before. I still find my way back. I miss not having time chase after me when I was in that dark abyss. I miss just drowning in no worries. Although, too much of anything is destructive. And I just know that like before I’ll be tearing apart everything to get back to where I am now again – a neverending cycle.
It’s just hard taking one step forward and going two steps back. Is this what it feels like to neglect how things truly are. Ever since I could remember I have lived in a different world than others in my head. So have you. One I’ll never understand. One I’ll never want to understand.