alltheavenueslookugly

skin crawl and there’s that feeling in my stomach – that heavy feeling that comes right before you begin to cry uncontrollably. you know it’s about to come – even in your grief you can stop and tell yourself, ‘fuck…i’m about to start crying and there is no way that it’s going to stop any time soon.’

but nothing has happened.

except life – if you look at it as a whole. and if you do it that way, then there is every reason to not stop crying until all muscles in your body have cramped themselves useless, every last tear is gone, and the ground is completely dry your cheeks red chapped and already peeling and you have either used your fingernails to scrap most of the skin off of your body or you’ve pulled your hair out in bloody frizzy clumps that you’ve thrown to the other side of the room.

and then there is the fear –

complete and sharp pins from around your toes up through all parts of your body until you are numb on the outside but the inside is still a goddamn fire and everything is scary – i open the door, i walk down the stairs, i open the door, i sit down on the chair, i light a cigarette, two kids ride their bicycles, a car horn in the distance, the wind blows a leaf across my foot, i smoke faster because i am vulnerable and out here anything is possible, i say ‘fuck it’ drop the cigarette, stamp it out, i hear a bird, i jump, i open the door, the skin crawls up my back because the entire world is now behind me and staring directly at me, i take the stairs two at a time, i trip and fall and crawl the three feet back into my apartment and still on my knees i open the door and jump up and close the door softly because slamming it would cause unwanted attention and the first lock is locked and the second lock is locked and i am still scared because somebody somewhere knows where i am and there are people that i care about and they are out in the world and i cannot see them and anything could be happening to them right now – maybe one is being hit by a car as he crosses the street and i start to feel sick – and then i have a brother and a sister and parents and anything could be happening to any of them right now and now i’m not scared for myself but for everybody else and this goes on for maybe fifteen minutes or twenty minutes and

then it stops.

immediately.

i find i can breathe again.

i check my heart.

it’s fast. and then slows and slows.

i force myself to think about what just happened, and it seems silly, but i do hear saxophones.

i look around. i look at myself. i still have my hair. i have no fingernails so i haven’t scratched the tattoos off of my arms. my feet are warm. i cannot wear socks just to wear socks. i am incredibly thirsty. i’ve found myself drinking nearly a gallon of water a day. i don’t mind peeing like twelve times a day.

i see my psychiatrist tomorrow morning.

so now i have stories for him.

~ by alltheavenueslookugly on 2014/12/03.

Posted in december14
Tags: anxiety, bipolar disorder, crying, depression, fear, happiness, hating self, mental illness, posts about suicide, psychiatrist, self harm, therapy