The Pulse of Misery

I have thought about this post for a while. I haven’t posted in sometime. I went from everyday day to every couple to weeks of silence. It isn’t that I enjoy writing any less or have anything less to say. It is more complicated then that. In this moment I have so many thoughts swimming around my head- drowning out common sense, reason and preventing me from making heads or tails of anything. Its troubling the darkness I feel at times. Not because of the darkness itself but all it represents- all it hides- all it allows me to feel.

I get tired of the smiles. The pretending I am ok instead of fighting just to breathe. I retreat into myself shutting out all I care about. The moments I am alone in the silence the static rings in my ears. Echoing through me until there is nothing left but ringing of the silence and the thoughts I dare not speak.

So many things trouble me, many of them I beyond my control. The things I can seem overwhelming needing all my attention at once. They get mixed up, turned about and then become unrecognizable and I become paralyzed. An emotional blob crippled by depression, anxiety a general feeling of appending doom. Completely lacking reason and overdrawn on the mental theatrics. An utter mess of a human being wrapped up in a miserable package.

This place I am in makes it hard for me to partake in my own daily life. I’m overly emotional, I ramble incoherently, I wrestle with every thought, over feel every emotion and I succumb the static finding comfort in the uncomfortable. It’s a circle. Not necessarily an awful one but definitely toxic . I have been here before- been and left. I will do it again of this I have no doubt. I struggle then I don’t or is it I struggle until I can’t feel and fool even myself for a while then don’t. I’m not sure.

It is how it goes the waves of depression. The pulse of misery. The comfort of the dark.