We do for others because we don't know how to do for ourselves. We do for others because we feel it is the only way to make up for the damage we feel our craziness is doing to society. We do for others because it makes us feel good when nothing else in the whole world does, not even pills. We stay quiet and sit in the corner because others seem so much more needy. We require so little, you and I. A fact which does not sit well with others who would label us as too much to handle. When in truth, all those such as us really need is a bit of understanding, a bit of reciprocation, maybe a touch on the cheek once in a while and a sly wink. The rest of the world is needy. I'd rather be crazy. ~~Aimee

Saturday, 27 August 2011


A lot has happened this week. Most of it I haven't blogged about. Some is too personal and I just don't want to go there. Some I just don't have the energy to get into. This week has been super busy and the injury did little to help with that. For now I'm in a very strange moment of time. I feel suspended as if I have been frozen and am just stuck in place. Waiting for some unknown entity to come and start my clock again. 

Rebuilding is beyond difficult. It is much easier to be lost in the delusion of insanity than to forge my way through reality. I feel out of place. I never know if what I'm doing is the correct response in any given situation. I feel a constant state of panic. Like I'm just waiting for the wind to blow my house of cards down. It's exhausting. But if I ever want to get out of this hole, then I must climb. I honestly didn't realize how deeply I had buried myself until I began climbing. I had no idea I had gone that far down the rabbit hole. I truly believed it wouldn't be this difficult and if I return to my old ways and old life, then it wouldn't be, but I don't want that life.

I want the life that lives beyond the rabbit hole. The life that has only existed in my mind. The life I've never actually seen or touched or breathed. A life I'm not 100% certain truly exists, but yet I climb. Searching, hoping, believing there is more beyond.

1 comment:

Aimee said...

It's that period of total exhaustion after the rage. Mentally, physically, emotionally exhausted. It makes it worse that you have a constant reminder of it on your hand, the one thing you need the most to find your safety in some sense of normal. I know that feeling. Part of you thinks you have undone any progress you ever thought you had made. Two steps forward, three steps back. Another part of you wants to forgive yourself, give yourself a hug and say that it wasn't so bad. And then there are the parts you cannot control. That of the people around you. And you know you've done something, just the episode of rage itself, that you cannot explain and for which you cannot ask for understanding because you don't even understand it. So you sit in silence, knowing they think horrible things about you, and you'll never be able to show them the wonderful person you really are when you are not constantly feeling sucked down the rabbit hole of gripping hands and prying eyes. Yes. I know that feeling. It gets better. I promise.


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